Rise of the Forgotten Book One: The Lost Child
by Neoalfa
Summary: One prophecy, two children. One will rise to protect the Wizarding World, the other will bring its downfall, but who can tell which is which when the lines between light and darkness become blurry? Wrong BWL, Dark, Manipulative Harry, Harem. STRONG THE
1. Prelude: Downfall

**Prelude - Downfall of the Wizarding World **(beta: Gakin)

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The Burrow – Ottery St. Catchpole 

The Order of the Phoenix, an illegal vigilante group consisting of wizards and witches formed with the purpose of fighting the Dark Lord, lead by none other than Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore, Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock of the ICW and Headmaster of Hogwarts, the most renowned magical institution in the Old World, was reunited once more under the roof of the Weasley household.

The rundown building, that couldn't stay up without the application of several charms, was one of the last safe places where the group could safely reunite. Long were gone the times where the ragtag group shined as a beacon of light in the rising darkness. In fact the beacon was reduced to nothing more than a feeble light. The war took a toll on the numbers of members. Far too many had already fallen under the wands of their enemies and even more had switched sides during the battle taking down even more of their ranks from within their lines.

The centenary wizard, now fully demonstrating his age, couldn't believe how things turned out all of a sudden. He had lost his most trusted comrades in the span of a minute forcing the remaining fighters to beat a quick retreat to the last safe stronghold. The headmaster almost laughed, almost, at the thought of the Burrow as a stronghold but he couldn't bring himself to quirk his lips upward. He was too tired and discouraged to even act amused. His trademark twinkling was long forgotten, smoldered by the long battles and the sudden betrayal of many of his most loyal friends.

He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that so many had defected to the dark side. Minerva. Minerva of all people had betrayed him. He wanted to believe that she was Imperioused but he knew differently. He could tell when a person was under the influence of the Unforgivable Curse and the clearly focused eyes of his former right hand when she was cursing him of all people left little doubt in his mind of where her allegiance laid.

They were compromised. He had entrusted most of his secrets with her and now she had jumped the fence. And not only her. Only an handful hadn't joined the Dark Lord and his General Sirius Black. How was it possible? How could that man sway so many to his cause? What could he have promised them to make them change side?

He knew them all. Or at least he believed he knew them. They used to be good people. Selfless, brave. They stood up for the Greater Good at his side, following him in battle without flinching. And now only a few remained to fight for what was right. Molly, Arthur, Mundungus, and James. Even Lily had betrayed them. Betrayed her husband and her children. Betrayed the Chosen One. Betrayed the light. The Potters didn't take the news well. James was dumbfounded when she left. Things weren't going well between them and he could understand her to a degree. Her husband had changed and not for the better but it wasn't enough to motivate her defection to their enemies. Her son was absolutely destroyed. The prophesied savior of the Wizarding World was reduced to a shadow of his former self. Albus didn't know what his mother had told him during the battle but whatever it was it crippled him.

And now they were gathered there. A handful of fighters that didn't know what to do next. The very people that they had sworn to protect had turned against them without apparent reason.

"Albus," Molly called after with clear concern in her voice. "What's going on, Albus? What can we do next? My children…"

The aged wizard rubbed the bridge of his nose searching for an answer that he wasn't sure he could find. All of his plans, his machinations, years of plots had fallen like a castle of sand in a storm. What should he do next? What could he do next? There was no chance to retaliate, they hadn't enough manpower, nor enough trust remaining.

The few who were left were eyeing each other wondering who would change sides next. For all intents and purposes they had already lost. Without trust in each other they were no longer a group, just a collection of individuals that didn't know what was going on or why.

Under the current circumstances there was very little they could do. There was only one option left and he didn't like it one bit.

"We must leave, Molly. We should go into hiding. Take only the strict necessities and leave. Gather your children and flee. If possible get out of the country until such a time when I can reach you again."

"What?" shrieked the matron making him cringe. "But Albus… Fred and George are still missing and Bill…"

"Fred and George are probably safe. They must have gone into hiding." 'If they haven't joined the enemy as well.' "The joke shop was untouched. They haven't been attacked and Bill is at Gringotts. Not even the Dark Lord will mess with the Goblin at this point in time."

"But… certainly there is something we can do. We can't just leave like this," she insisted.

"Mom, he's right," the youngest of the Weasley children, sixteen-year-old Ginny, said to her mother. "Right now there is nothing we can do. We don't know our enemy at all. We don't know who our allies are either. Take a look around Mom. We have been betrayed. There's nothing we can do. Nobody we can trust, for all we know there could be other traitors amongst us right now."

"Ginevra! That is nothing you should concerning yourself about. Children should stay out of this kind of…"

"CHILDREN? CHILDREN?" Ginny erupted. "This child has been fighting like everybody else for the past year. I might still be a minor but I'm no longer a child. I've stopped being a child since my first year at Hogwarts. Remember the whole Chamber of Secret fiasco Mom? I've been part of this war since I was eleven."

"Ginevra Molly Weasley! You will not address me with that tone. I'm your mother and I deserve your respect."

"Your mother is right Ginny." interjected Arthur from the couch. "Stay out of this."

"What does it have to do with anything? This is not a family gathering. If you can't respect ME enough to acknowledge me as a fighter like everybody else, then I have no reason to stay."

"ENOUGH!" Roared Dumbledore. "There is no time for family quarrels. Young Ginevra is right Molly. There is nothing we can do until we can ascertain who we can trust and who we cannot. Go into hiding. Disappear from sight. I will reach everyone as soon as it's safe. We have no time to waste. I have placed some wards but…"

Dumbledore's speech was cut by a lynx Patronus coming out from a wall. The manifestation looked around until it spotted the figure of the aged wizard and walked up to him. Kingsley's voice echoed from the shining animal.

"The ministry has fallen. They are coming. Run."

It was the last drop. Chaos erupted in the house. Everybody was screaming something to someone else. Somebody was just screaming to no one in particular. Dumbledore was about to restore order with one of his infamous 'thunder claps' when a sudden vibration shook the building.

"What's going on Albus?" James Potter asked. The inquired wizard grabbed his chest.

"Somebody is trying to take down the wards I erected when we arrived. They are already here."

The survivors of the order ran to the windows, searching for their attackers. What they saw stole their breath away.

"NO! IT CAN'T BE!" screamed a distraught Molly. The reason for her anguish was right in front her, just beyond the fence of the Burrow. Among fifteen black clad person, a single unmasked individual was standing with a hand raised towards the now clearly visible sphere of the wards. The red hair and the dragon tooth earring were a dead giveaway to the identity of the curse-breaker that was trying to break through.

"NO! NOT BILL! NOT HIM TOO!"

No one would have believed that Bill Weasley could turn against his family, not even under the power of the Imperious Curse. Yet he was standing right there, his hand frizzling against the surface of the wards that he was trying to take down. The clear focus in his eyes, much like Minerva not even an hour before, left little doubt on the clearness of his thought. Ward breaking was not something that could be performed by a mind struggling against foreign control. William 'Bill' Weasley was in full possession of his will. And it was turned against them.

Albus Dumbledore prized himself in his ability in erecting wards. Over a century of life had taught him many things in that subtle art, yet all his knowledge and skills paled in front of the young prodigy that was going to shred his defenses apart. They had probably just an handful of minutes at best before the last line of defense came down.

"Run everybody, now. The wards won't hold much longer. Run outside of the anti-apparition ward and reach somewhere safe. We must…" _*BOOOM!*_

Against his best prediction it didn't take minutes for the redhead to take down his defenses but seconds. A _Bombarda _impacted against the ground just a few steps from the door, sending dirt flying everywhere. The probability of their very skilled enemies missing a target the size of the Burrow was highly unlikely. They weren't trying to kill them at least. For that purpose a _Finite Incantatem_ would have served the purpose, making the whole structure collapse on them.

The blast had the intended effect. It send the inhabitants into a panic. They began running everywhere looking for an escape. The small space of the room didn't allow for many maneuvers. James grabbed his unresponsive son and darted out of a window, soon followed by others. In the confusion Molly didn't manage to reach her daughter but she saw her follow Dumbledore outside into the back garden. If anybody could keep her baby girl safe, it was the greatest wizard in the world. She quickly followed her husband down the road that lead to a small forest outside the boundaries of the anti-apparition ward

The problem was… who would keep the greatest wizard safe?

Albus Dumbledore was making his way outside the wards with great difficulty. For all his skills his foes were extremely capable, never attacking in less than five and always with great coordination. Had he been a lesser wizard he would have fallen a long time ago. Yet the best he managed to accomplish was to stall the masked assailants. Things became more complicated when they started targeting the young witch that followed him, hoping to be lead to safety. That was a bad move on her part since the group was clearly aiming for him, although they weren't using any lethal spell. It was obvious that they were trying to take him alive. Perhaps there was still hope for their misguided souls.

"Stay behind me Ginevra! I won't let any harm befall you," declared the old wizard. Ginevra was fundamental in his plan. To fuel the power-he-knows-not he had to keep her safe. The Chosen One had extremely strong feeling for the youngest Weasley. Losing her now could be an insurmountable loss for their cause. As long as the Chosen One lived and loved there was still hope for the Light.

He never saw the disarming hex hitting him in the back but he clearly saw the Elder Wand flying from his hand behind his shoulder. He turned to face the unseen enemy that had stolen the allegiance of the Death Stick only to see said wand flying into the open palm of a grinning Ginevra Molly Weasley.

"And here I went through all the trouble of warning you that traitors were lurking everywhere. What a disappointment you turned out to be Headmaster."

"Ginevra, you…" the pale wizard stuttered dumbfounded.

"Indeed Headmaster. Me." The group of gathered Dark Wizards was chuckling at his bewildered expression. "Thanks for being so predictable the whole time. You made things so much easier."

The amusement in her voice sent his rage burning. He could no longer fight but without the traitorous woman to protect he could escape much more easily.

"Fawkes!" he called for his long time companion. The phoenix flamed into existence flying toward him, only to land gracefully with a melodious trill on the shoulder of the same redhead that stole his wand just moments prior, nuzzling her cheek affectionately with its beak.

Dumbledore expression was comical at that point. If his eyes could open any wider they would resemble saucers. His mouth was slightly open in a shocked expression.

"F-f-f-fawkes?" The phoenix barely turned to look at him with contempt before Ginny spoke again.

"Way too predictable old man. Way too predictable."

He was too stunned to avoid the dual _Stupefy_ sent his way by Ginny's wand and the Death stick. Blackness welcomed his confused mind and he knew no more.

* * *

Location: Unknown

He opened his eyes again an indefinable amount of time later. He was no longer on the green garden of the Burrow, but in a finely decorated mansion. His wrists were bound with a common rope, something he could easily dispose of wandlessly if he wasn't trapped inside a Siphoning runic circle.

He was completely powerless.

At his left Ginevra was kneeling in front of a hooded figure. "My Lord. Albus Dumbledore is at your mercy as you have ordered."

The figure turned around to face him, but his visage was covered by a white mask that looked like a skull with three black stripes that cut the left side like a claw mark. Whomever this person was it definitely wasn't Voldemort.

The headmaster gulped with some difficulty. He must have been unconscious for quite some time.

"Who…?" he asked with a sore throat. The wizard turned to look at him while Ginny was placing the Elder Wand into his open palm.

"Ah. You are already awake. Not surprising considering the amount of magic you possess. Welcome to my humble abode Mr. Dumbledore. Forgive me for the rude means I used to bring you here. I was under the impression that you would have ignored a formal invitation.

"You have me at disadvantage Mr…?"

"Erebeus." The masked wizard answered. Albus froze and gulped again. The rumors were true then? There were two Dark Lords?

"Why… have you brought me here. Why haven't you killed me?"

"Because I need you alive. Because I need your help."

By now Dumbledore was completely lost. He had no idea of where he was or what was going on. Only one thing was clear in his mind.

"Then you might as well finish what you started and kill me. I won't help you in any way. You can torture me all you want or even try to Imperious me. It won't work." A light chuckle escaped from behind the mask. The Dark Lord walked to his prisoner, bending so that the white skull was barely inches from the from the aged wizard.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that Dumbledore." Erebeus stated with an hand over the smooth with surface of his mask. He then pulled it away showing his features to the shocked wizard.

Albus world collapsed when the dazzling green eyes bored into his own. Something inside his mind clicked and years of clues and hints snapped into place forming a picture where he, the chess master, was really nothing else but an unknowing pawn. His shocked mind was processing years of information at an outstanding rate. So many facts, so many clues. He was too taken by his own plans to really take notice. He wanted to say something, to show that after all he still had a grasp of the whole picture but the only thing that escaped his lips was a single name, the key to the whole puzzle.

"Harry."

Erebeus simply smirked. Victory tasted good.

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Here goes my first attempt at Harry Potter fanfic. I hope you liked the prelude. Hopefully I'll be back soon with chapter one.

Stay tuned for more.

Later.


	2. Children of the prophecy

**Children of the prophecy** (beta: Gakin)

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Location: Godric's Hollow – Date: 31 July 1980

"TWINS! Albus they are two wonderful twins!" exclaimed an overjoyed James Potter. His wife Lily had given birth just the day before to their first two children, the eldest Harry James Potter and the youngest Alex Charlus Potter. Two healthy babies born in a dark time of war.

"That's wonderful news, James. Wonderful indeed. Congratulations. Yet I am afraid I have to spoil the mood. I bring grave news."

"Voldemort?" asked the auror, not fearing to call the Dark Lord by his name of choosing. "What did that monster do this time? Another attack on the muggle-born?"

"No, no. He hasn't done anything yet. In fact he has not done anything for quite some time now. I'm afraid that the same news I'm here to deliver must have reached his ears and he is now pondering his next move."

"What news, Albus? What kind of information could put a hold to that madman?" asked a now really concerned James. It was usual for Dumbledore to approach a subject running circles around it but the concerned tone in the powerful wizard gave him a sense of dread that he couldn't shake away. His experience as an Auror was telling him that whatever was keeping the elderly wizard on his toes was something he should be worried about.

"We'd better be sitting for this, James." The auror simply nodded, now even more concerned.

The duo approached the comfy couch in the living room and they both sat.

"Now, what is this all about Albus?"

Dumbledore inhaled deeply before speaking.

"Recently I have been looking for somebody to fill the role of professor for Divination at school. A very difficult task since there's plenty of supposed seers around the world. I was interviewing a candidate for the job a few weeks ago down at the Hog's Head. Honestly this woman turned out to be just another disappointment and I was about to leave when something happened. Tell me James, are you familiar with the concept of a prophecy? How they work and how to identify them?" James shook his head. Albus continued.

"When a prophecy is given, the determining factors must already be true and the seer will not remember the contents of it at all. Personally I had never witnessed a true seer give a prophecy before that night."

"What… what did the prophecy say, Albus?"

The elder looked the younger firmly in the eyes before speaking again.

_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches.…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not.…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"_

James Potter's world crumbled that very instant.

"But… but… are you sure that it was a real prophecy?" Albus nodded gravely.

"Yes. I have used Legilimency on the woman who gave it and I have found no trace of that memory. It's genuine James."

"Then… then my children… one of them.." stuttered James.

"Either one of them or the Longbottom's child,"

"And… the Dark Lord knows of this? How?"

"A death eater was eavesdropping that night. I'm fairly certain that he had reported at least a meaningful part of the prophecy to his master. I'm sorry James, but your family has become a target even more than it was already."

A pregnant silence fell between the two wizards. James was clutching his hands so hard that his fingers were becoming white.

"I… I need to tell Lily. She must know. She has to go into hiding with the kids. I won't allow my family to be dragged into this nonsense."

"I agree with you entirely James. Yet I fear that going against fate might bring even worse results. The marking has still to take place. Until then we don't know who the Chosen One is and until then the prophecy won't be fulfilled. Voldemort will find and mark his equal no matter how well hidden he will be. Fate will see it done."

"Then I will challenge fate even if I have to die for it."

"I understand. I will place the Fidelius Charm over this house. You must choose a secret keeper, James. Someone you can trust with the lives of you and your family."

"I… can't I be the secret keeper or maybe Lily?"

"No, James, the power of the Fidelius works only if it's based on trust. The secret cannot be held by one of those it's supposed to protect. You must choose somebody else."

"Then... I'm choosing Sirius. He's like a brother to me and he can protect himself. I can't imagine anybody I could trust more than him. Not even you Albus."

"Very well then. Bring Sirius here tomorrow and we will perform the charm."

"I'll call him right away."

* * *

Location: Godric's Hollow – Date: 31 October 1981

"He's here. Run Lily, take the children to safety. I'll hold him back." The auror motioned his wife to run upstairs. Maybe she could put up a couple of wards to keep the Dark Lord away until help arrived.

"James, no! You can't take him. He's too powerful. We must escape," the red headed Lily Potter nee Evans pleaded.

"We can't outrun him love. Go! I love you. I love you all."

"We love you too, James. Please don't die. Please."

"Can't promise you that Love. Go!"

She ran upstairs and James steadied himself for the incoming fight, his thoughts drifting to his friends and family. A single sad thought was spared for the traitorous Black who had turned his back and revealed the secret to the Dark Lord.

The door exploded in a shower of wooden fragments that impacted against James's shield without harm. The hooded figure stepped inside the house as if he owned the place, stopping to stare into James's eyes with his own slits. The snake looking man known as Lord Voldemort spoke in a voice that sent shivers down the other man's spine.

"Potter… stand aside. There's no need for you to die tonight. You can find better than that Mudblood for a wife."

James Potter answered with a Bone Breaking hex that impacted harmlessly onto the Dark Lord shield.

"There is no one better that Lily!" he shouted back sending another flurry of hexes and curses at the assailant.

The two figures dueled without further words. James proved his worth holding back the powerful wizard for five minutes. The Dark Lord was impressed by the young Auror skills, but in the end he was just toying with him. With a flick of his wrist he sent a stunning hex in his direction.

James saw it coming and promptly cast his shield. He was both figuratively and literally stunned when the red spinning globe shattered his guard and hit him square in the chest. Unconscious he slumped on the ground, his last thoughts to the family he didn't manage to protect.

"There will be a place for you in my reign Potter, once I've corrected your mistakes up there. I'm sure you'll see reason in time."

The Dark Lord walked upstairs searching for his prey. On the second floor he met a repelling ward. A hastily done job that shattered as soon as he pushed his magic against it. He reached the door to the room where the Mudblood had run with the children. Soon the whole prophecy business would have been dealt with. With a single movement of his wand the door melted and he stepped inside.

Lily Potter was holding her wand ready to fight with everything she had to protect her children.

"Move, woman. I have other plans for you."

"NEVER!" she shouted defiantly. "I won't let you harm my children."

"Ah, you will try to not let me harm them."

This time the confrontation lasted far less time. A single _Stupefy_ disposed of the woman with little effort.

"You are lucky that I have promised you to my Death Eater, Snape, as a reward for his services, otherwise you would have preceded your children to the other side."

The Dark Lord then approached the first crib, the one where Alex Potter slept unaware of his impending doom. Voldemort pointed his wand at the toddler, a killing curse already on his lips. That's when things went to hell. His right arm was suddenly yanked by an invisible force towards the outstretched hand of another boy. Who knows if the young Harry Potter was trying to protect his only brother from the evil stick or if he was just trying to catch the attention of the only conscious adult in the room? Whatever the reason might have had the killing curse was now pointed towards him. Had Voldemort known the result of such an innocent gesture he would have probably tried to hold back the curse or maybe tried to miss the target.

Either way the deadly green jet of light sailed toward the raven haired boy hitting him in the chest without fail.

Then the world exploded. Harry's body shined before a massive shock wave expanded from him, blasting the Dark Lord into smithereens and taking with him half of the room. Debris flew everywhere, Alex's crib was practically destroyed, inflicting a great number of wounds on the boy. Lily's unconscious form wasn't any luckier. Pieces of wood pierced her body, waking her up.

Lily opened her eyes to a cataclysmic scene.

Where Harry's crib used to be there was just a hole, both in the floor and on the wall. Part of the ceiling was gone as well. No trace of her eldest son was left. Too shocked to process the meaning of what she was seeing her eyes run to her other son's crib. The last of her children was lying in a pool of blood, breathing raggedly. She screamed and the piercing wail reached the ears of the member of the order that had apparated just moments before outside the house.

Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall run upstairs after a quick _Ennervate_ on James.

"Lily! Harry! Alex!" James reached the room afraid of what he would find once there. His fears were not disappointed when he saw his flustered wife holding the body of their last remaining son in her arms.

"Quick Minerva, summon Pomfrey at Hogwarts. We need to stabilize the boy before moving him to St. Mungo's."

The woman followed the instruction and ran to the floo downstairs while James tended to his wife and son's wounds.

"Albus…" Lily called with a barely audible voice. "Harry… what happened to Harry?" The wizard, now feeling the full weight of his age, looked at the scene in front of him.

"Lily… I'm sorry I…" he swallowed a knot in his throat, "I don't think that Harry…" he couldn't finish the sentence. Lily broke down crying holding her husband for dear life. James too was crying the loss of his eldest son but he was trying his best to be strong for his family. He had to be strong for them. Lily and Alex both needed him in that moment and he wouldn't fail his family more than he already had. He swore to himself that no matter what he would protect them against all harm.

"Albus," he spoke with a strained voice, "where's Voldemort?"

The old man looked at the infant in the arms of Lily and spoke gravely. "I believe that fate took it's toll to realize the prophecy James. I'm not sure if he's truly gone yet but maybe we gained some time."

Poppy Pomfrey walked inside the room at that very moment, quickly administering help, first for the young Potter. A few minutes later the group apparated to the front of St. Mungo's while a few members of the order kept watch over the house.

A group of medi-witches rushed to attend the wounded, taking great care with the wounded boy.

"Quick, call a curse breaker. There is a great deal of dark magic in his system. Quickly now, his core won't last much more like this."

"Dark Magic?" Lily shrieked.

"Please step back, ma'am," a nurse said, "let us do our job. We'll save him." Reluctantly the mother stepped back and let the witches take care of her son.

"Please save him, please, please…" she kept repeating like a mantra.

The witch nodded and followed her colleagues. Lily clenched her hands over her heart and prayed both for Alex and for Harry. She couldn't believe that her sweet little child was gone. She couldn't accept that she had lost him.

No. No matter what other people said she wouldn't believe that her son was gone, regardless of what everyone else said about.

She just didn't know how right she was.

* * *

Location: Unknown – Date: 31 October, 1981

A forest at night is never truly silent. The darkness is usually pierced by many noises made by it's inhabitants. Only when a threat is perceived does the mass of trees fall silent like it had in that moment. The apparently calm air of the night started frizzling all of a sudden until a sudden explosion blasted the nearby tree away, generating a sudden clearing in the otherwise uninterrupted patch of wood. Out of nothingness a baby appeared with nothing to cover him, his hand holding a small wooden stick made of Yew. The boy fell to the ground asleep. He was uninjured except for a single lightening shaped scar on his forehead.

He laid there unprotected for several minutes until a human figure appeared from the woods. A woman wearing rags made her way through the wasteland, searching for the source of the disaster. She found the boy on the ground sleeping peacefully, unaware of the chaos he caused.

The woman stared at him for a couple of minutes before picking him up and taking him away into the night, cradling him like a most precious possession.

She didn't know how much her action would influence the future of the Wizarding World.

* * *

Author Notes: Ok. Chapter two is here and the story unfolds. Where's Harry? Who's the mysterious woman? Did Sirius really betray the Potters? What's going to happen from now on? Stay tuned for more.

The Fidelius Charm

The whole Harry Potter story is based in a humongous plot hole: the secret keeper. Why the hell wasn't Lily the secret keeper? If only they had a person who never needed to leave the house be the secret keeper Voldemort would have never found the Potters. Does it makes sense at all?

For this reason in my story the Fidelius Charm requires a bond of trust from the owner of the house and the secret keeper. If the secret keeper spends too much time under the protection of the charm it fades quickly. It's the only way this sort of charm makes sense to me. Tell me what you think about it.

Bye.


	3. Years apart

**Years apart (beta: Gakin)**

* * *

Location: Unnamed town somewhere in central Europe – Date: 26 September 1986

The small town built with spare wood, junk and other material of unknown origins was a little more than a dumpster. The unnamed settlement in the middle of the forest was a gathering point for all sort of magical folks from wizard and witches to werewolves and vampires. While a part of the town was made of actual buildings the rest of it was more similar to a favela. All kinds of shady business could be held in that place while the German Magical government turned its eyes elsewhere.

The town was built in two years since the clearing suddenly formed after an unexplained magical burst generated a clearing in the middle of the forest. The first to arrive were magical scholars looking for an explanation to the sudden peak of ambient magic in the area. A few of them started building their houses there foreseeing years of research into the mystery of that place. Soon enough all sorts of people started gathering around the small settlement, following the stream of supplies to the community. Before anyone could do anything about it the first Merchant guild established itself there. The scholars didn't mind at all. It actually made it faster to order and get the supplies they needed.

While most of those researchers were extremely bright, like their peers they spared very little time for anything beyond their subject of interest. Their settlement actually stood in between two other important magical towns and with a guild there it soon became a major route for all those who wanted to travel the Muggle way and avoid being noticed. Smugglers started to walk down that route. All sorts of poisons traveled down that road. It was a primitive and slow method of transport but it wasn't under scrutiny. Sure it took ages for anything to reach their destination but it was a lot safer than any portkeys, which were under strict supervision. It was rather hard to smuggle anything that way without a hefty bribe, which in turn raised the prices of the goods on the black market.

The government acknowledged the situation and turned the other way. As long as the denizens kept to their own machination without involving the honest citizens of their country everything was fine. In a certain sense it made it easier to draw a line between the healthy part of the country and the not-so-healthy part. A few well placed bribes, way cheaper that any for the portkeys management office, kept the eyes of the law far away from them.

With those premises the town degraded to its worst, and while the scholars were being left alone in their own part of the town, the rest of it quickly became a home for all sorts of unsavory individuals and organizations.

Of course in places like that, where all sorts of desires found an easy outlet, it wasn't difficult to see a few orphans running around the place. It was the sort of place where properly raised women could dispose of their not-so-properly conceived children without anyone being the wiser. For these very reason no one paid any attention to the scrawny, barefooted child running around dressed in rags. A child like many others: dirty, smelly and of course hungry. For all intents and purposes he wasn't someone to spare a second glance to. If you didn't stare in his eyes that is. He had just a couple of features that made him easily recognizable. The first was a pair of uncommon green eyes that held clearness and vitality inside them that was almost hypnotizing. They were also extremely hard, like most of the other boys around in that small nameless patch of barracks in the middle of the forest. Yet the strength in them was uncommon, especially in that god-forsaken place, where resignation and misery ruled the hearts of most. The second feature was a much less noticeable lightening shaped scar under his unruly raven hair that earned him his name.

"_Scar! Come here! NOW!"_ An old woman screamed in German. The boy ran inside the barely standing shack where the old crone was stirring something inside a cauldron

"_I'm here aunt. What do you need?" _he answered in the same language. The old hag that raised him didn't even turn to look at him and simply kept stirring. The comparison to one of those evil witches from the fairy tales would have jumped to the boy's mind if he ever heard such a thing like a fairytale.

"_Take those vials to the man that lives on the other side of the hill, in the great mansion."_ The boy stiffened at the mention of that place. He didn't like going there and he didn't like meeting that man. The way he looked at him every time he went there was the second worst thing in his life. _"Make it quick boy. I have other errands for you." _The boy didn't move. _"NOW BOY!"_

The scream jolted him out of his paralysis. He quickly grabbed the vials, placed them into his bag and ran outside.

He kept running through the amazingly large town, his naked feet pattering on the cold, muddy ground. His hands were clutching the bag tightly, both to avoid it being stolen and to prevent the frail vials from falling and breaking. He still remembered how it hurt last time he told his aunt it happened. Actually he could still feel the pain in his back. The scars still had yet to heal completely.

He dodged the uncaring crowd in the streets and kept running until he reached the outskirts and the forest beyond them. His figure was swallowed by the seemingly endless patch of woods where very few dared to wander. He wasn't seen again for the rest of the day.

* * *

Location: Godric's Hollow – Date: 26 September 1986

"Come on Alex! Dodge faster!"

James Potter sent another Stinging Hex against his son. The red headed boy with dark eyes jumped to his left to avoid the jet of magic sailing toward him. His breath was coming in ragged rasps and he was sweating profusely. Since that accursed Halloween his father had started training him until he could barely stand. The boy couldn't perform magic yet, both because he didn't possess a wand and because his magical core was still strained from that night. That didn't mean that his body and his mind couldn't be trained to their peak best.

"Tired already?" taunted his father seeing his son struggle after half an hour of relentless training.

"JAMES! Stop this already." Lily Potter entered the room hearing the screams of her husband. "Can't you see that he's at his limit?" James winced at the tone of his wife. Since Harry's death, something you couldn't mention in her presence, she became a tad overprotective of her last son and never ceased to bite her husband's head off when he overstepped the boundaries of what was safe and healthy.

"But love…," he tried to protest.

"No James. You can't push our boy this hard. He's only six. What are you hoping to accomplish?" he was about to reply when Alex gathered enough breath to speak for himself.

"Mom… that's ok. Please dad keep going." James smiled at his son.

"Alex… You don't have to push yourself this hard."

"Yes I do," replied the boy. "I'm the Boy-Who-Lived. I'm the one designated to face Voldemort once he returns. I can't hope to accomplish anything by slacking. I have to become stronger."

"Alex, please…" she pleaded.

"No mom. I've already lost a brother before even knowing him. I'm not going to allow that monster or anybody else to hurt my family. I'm going to protect you, dad and Rose. I can't do that if I don't put all of myself into this training." James beamed at his son's words while Lily simply hugged him. His father had drilled inside him the value of their family and the importance of protecting your loved ones. Alex was more than receptive of the concept, seeing his mother crying over his long lost brother.

"Thanks Alex," his mother whispered. "Please don't overdo it. We don't want you to protect us at the expense of your health." she let her son go and turned to her husband. "If he gets hurt you'll be sleeping on the couch for a year. Got it?" he nodded frantically. Lily could be downright scary when she wanted to.

The woman walked out of the room hearing the two males starting again. She was so proud of her son trying so hard even if his magical core had still to recover fully. It took long for the leftover energy of the killing curse to be flushed from his system. A whole month spent in a potion induced coma. His core would be completely restored by the time he started Hogwarts according to the healer who took care of his case. A healer that had no knowledge of the meaning of patient confidentiality. After the news spread that Voldemort was gone and that the boy had survived the infamous _Avada Kedavra _her son was hailed as a savior even though no one knew exactly what happened that night. What a load of bullcrap.

Dumbledore believed that Harry's death triggered some kind of blood protection over his twin. He wasn't sure how that could be possible but magic wasn't an exact science anyway. Children were a lot more in touch with their magical cores than adults due to their natural acceptance of their surroundings while they lacked the intent to focus it properly. As a magical human matured the power was lost in exchange for control but the mind of a baby could perform types of magic that were precluded to the 'wand-weavers'. It was primal, pure, unbidden, and nothing short of a miracle.

Too bad that nobody had seen it happen that night. Too bad that the price for a miracle was the loss of a son.

She never accepted that Harry had died despite no trace of him being left. Without her other child it was only a half-miracle. She kept praying to any higher power, God, Magic, Fate, for the miracle to be completed and her lost child returned to her. So far her prayers went unanswered.

She walked down the stairs to the living room. The same place where Voldemort fought against her husband after that traitorous dog lead him to their house. The only satisfaction was knowing that he was rotting in Azkaban under the torture of the foul creatures known as Dementors. The closest thing to Hell on Earth.

She grabbed a small frame she kept in full view. A picture of her holding Harry while James held Alex. The two boys couldn't be kept apart back then. They always cried until they were put together. They shared everything. Every moment of their life until that night was spent as one. They used to have such a wonderful bond…

She was about to let the tears go when she was tackled by a human missile.

"Mommy!" Four years old Rose Potter hugged her mother like usual. She was incredibly receptive of the mood around her and was always there for her mother every time she was sad. "Don't cry mommy," she pleaded with watery eyes.

Lily couldn't deny her anything when she looked at her like that. She simply melted her heart. "I'm sorry sweetheart. I didn't mean to upset you. I won't cry anymore."

The child sniffed loudly and hugged her mother even more.

The four years old girl was the spitting image of her mother at that age. From the bushy red hair that she managed to tame only with the use of a few glamour charms to the green eyes that she had in common with her brother Harry. The young girl was a witch with a potential like few others. At the age of four her accidental magic didn't look accidental at all, lashing out every time uncle Peter pulled a prank on her. The long time friend learned very fast not to mess with the youngest Potter.

Peter had been the Potter's closest friend in the past few years since Sirius betrayed them and James and Remus grew apart. No, growing apart wasn't the proper definition. It was more like James drove Remus away. It wasn't open hostility, more like unconscious mistrust. Moony was a werewolf, werewolves are dark and dark is evil. After his brother in all but blood betrayed him, James really couldn't bring himself to trust anyone outside of his family barring Dumbledore. Peter was a special case but that was only because no one could ever perceive Wormtail as a threat. That man was scared of his own shadow. How he ever ended up in Gryffindor was a mystery to all.

Remus was sad about the whole situation of course, but he wasn't bitter about it. Sirius' betrayal had been a hard blow for him too but he could understand the need for his other friend to keep his family safe. Of course Lily and Peter kept seeing Remus on a regular basis and the Rat animagus still accompanied his furry friend during the full moons.

James didn't say anything about his wife's friendship with the werewolf, but it was clear he didn't like it at all. He didn't dare say anything because he knew rationally that he was in the wrong. He just couldn't bring himself to face and overcome this primal fear he developed. Remus on his part never blamed him. His inner wolf understood the desire of keeping one's cubs safe more than anybody else.

Lily sat on the couch with her daughter on her lap, stroking her hair gently, humming a soft tune in her ears. She kept lulling her until she fell asleep in her arms. Looking at her, thinking back to all things that fell apart since that night she kept praying in her mind for one only thing.

"Please come home soon Harry. We all miss you terribly."

It would take eight more years for her wish to be fulfilled.

* * *

Author Notes: Here we have an insight on what kind of life the two children are experiencing. Very different but still very hard in a their own way. Chapters should become longer later on.

Let me know what you think of this so far keeping in mind that English is not my native language, that I'm mostly self taught and I'm lacking a beta for this story.

Bye.


	4. Growing up in the mud

Chapter 3 – Growing up in the mud

* * *

Location: Nameless Town – Date: 27 September 1986 

The boy known as Scar walked back through the forest way after sunrise. The morning breeze provided a small measure of comfort for his aching body. The scars on his back opened again and the haphazard medication he received at that man's house didn't make up for it in the slightest. Especially not after the activities of the past night. He felt dirty and soiled in a way a young boy should never experience. The contact never became abusive in a violent manner. The old man just wanted to touch him and to be touched back. It wouldn't hurt anybody right?

Scar wasn't of the same opinion. He hated it. The way he made the him touch his body. He died a little every time he did it, but he had little choices in the matter. He was too small to gain money any other way and there is just so much you can obtain with errands and small thefts. He definitely couldn't obtain those rare potion he needed in any other way. The hag neither could nor would brew them for him. She had grew him out of curiosity at first and as her errand boy later on. She wasn't nothing like a parent and she wouldn't go out of her way to help him. The best he could hope to gain from her was some stale bread, a roof over his head and a good whipping for every mistake he did. Like the one that was waiting for him once he returned there.

He spent the night with that man on his own volition and he wasn't going to share the profit with her. She wouldn't do it for him and therefore he wouldn't do it for her. Furthermore if she'd ever found out what kind of 'services' he provided she would certainly make him work in that department for her gain. Definitely not what he wanted for himself. He did those... filthy things for a reason. A reason beside himself.

Walking along the muddy path he stumbled and fell forward. His hands clutched his bad to protect its content instead of supporting his frame from falling. His face hit the ground with a splotching noise. For a moment he didn't react but then he simply placed the bag on the floor before using his hands to push himself up from the ground. He wiped the mud from his face with the back of his hand and for a moment he simply sat there contemplating the misery of his existence. He felt like crying right there. Too bad he had learned really fast that tears were good only to make notice your current weakness even more. No he wouldn't, couldn't cry. Tears are the mark of the weak and the weak died easily. He couldn't allow himself to do that. He had a reason to go on. A reason to live. A reason that was waiting for him back in that rotten corner of the world he came from.

He pulled himself on his feet and resumed walking. It would take him at least a couple of hours to get back at that pace.

He walked through the forest like it was his playground… and it was. The creature of the forest never seemed to threaten him. Even the biggest of them simply shrugged his presence. Of course reactions where different from specie to specie. The birds acknowledged him like a predator at kept their distances. Except for owls, but they were a magical type of birds, of course they would keep an eye on a wizard like him. The wolves were fine if you didn't threaten their territory and they kept themselves away from the human settlement. The werewolves were dangerous as a specie only during the full moons and even there they knew better than attack a place where hundreds of wizards, witches and vampires lived. They acted pretty much on instinct during their transformation and the town reeked of deadly danger for the pack. Survival instinct never lies. Finally there were the trolls, which were big, slow, dumb and you could smell them a mile away. It wasn't very difficult to run around them in that open space. Plus even if Scar was to stumble upon them he knew exactly how to deal with them.

Trolls were… greatly misunderstood creatures. Due to their size and lack of intellect they had developed an uncommon aggressiveness to all they believed a danger or food. The trick to survive an encounter was making them think you were not one of those. Scar's size certainly didn't classify him as a threat and he smell like a troll most of the time anyway Not even Trolls found their own smell appetizing, but it's not like they had access to a shower. More often than not he was mistaken as one of their youngest and he was allowed to walk among them without harm.

Scar spent a lot of time among them and learned quite a few things about their species. Trolls, while not being extremely intelligent, made up for what they lacked singularly in the brain department by working together. Troll societies were structured in an simple manner, with a single chief a small clan of warriors around him while all the rests were hunters, barring women and children of course. The women were the keeper of the Troll culture. Yes culture. They had legends and tales that were transmitted verbally to the future generations. Certainly the narration lacked something like their vocabulary, but there were a lot of information one could gather just by sitting there and listening to them. Trolls had been witnesses to most of the wars between magic-folks, often left outside the greatest conflict from which they had nothing to gain and could offer a little contribute besides being cannon fodder. No, Trolls kept to themselves, watched and learned. And so did Scar.

He learned about the misery of the world. He learned about the human folly. He learned of their repetitive mistakes. He learned of societies who grew and fell because of their greed or their fears.

He learned about long gone species. Like the Long Ears, as the Trolls called them, whom had left this plane in favor of the 'Land Beyond The Sea' after what was known as the War of the Rings millennia ago. And the Fae folks whom had left for the island where the last Chosen King of the humans was said to have gone after his death. A few elder trolls believed the place to be the very same but it's not like they could find out. Not like they really cared. It was supposed to be a land were only those who didn't give up their dreams could hope to reach. Arabon? Abaron? No, Avalon. Yes that was the last name the place was being called.

He learned and was disgusted. Barring a few exception, like the King of Knights and his entourage, the humankind for all their supposed superior intelligence could not hold things together for longer than a handful of centuries and with a great number of conflicts. Compared to them, the Trolls had a much more stable society that spanned back for millennia. Not bad for the dumbest race on earth, uh?

Scar listened and learned. He was a wizard, he knew that already; a few cases of accidental and not-so-accidental magic proved it quite enough. He was a wizard and he wanted to know. He was dirty and wore rag but he believed that he could accomplish anything he wanted if he's out himself to it. He had survived that far in a hostile environment. That alone proved his strength. He knew it would be hard but he would eventually leave that god-forsaken place and make his own way through the world, just like those few before him did. Never giving up, never stepping back.

* * *

Caught in his reminiscence he arrived back in town without even noticing. He should have gone back to his place immediately but he was very well aware that if he did that he couldn't walk again for some time. Knowing this he turned a corner and kept walking to yet another part of that town making his way through the rundown buildings held together by a great use of magic. Soon enough his feet carried him to his destination. A small barrack without a door. Just four walls and a flat roof.

He walked inside where is family was waiting for him.

"_Brother…"_ a weak voice called him for a dark corner. Scar walked there, where a girl with blonde hair was resting on a layers of woods and pelts. The closest thing to a bed he could afford for her. _"You are back. *Cough* I was worried for you." _The small girl with stunning blue eyes looked at him with affection.

"_Sorry, sis. I've been really busy lately. How are you feeling today? Have you eaten something?"_ Scar asked to the obviously sick girl. The girl nodded.

"_Yes brother. I'm feeling a little better today thanks. And yes I ate the bread you left me yesterday. It wasn't infested at all."_ But she was lying at least for the first part. She wasn't looking any better than the previous day.

"_I see that's good. Anyway I've managed to get my hands on those potions the healer said you need to get better." _The girl was startled. Those potions were rare in places like that and they were sure to cost a great deal. With that much money Scar could get a month worth of food.

"_What? *Cough* Brother you didn't need to do that. Please bring them back or change them for money. I'm feeling better already."_ Scar just smiled at his sister lie.

"_You are not better at lying than the last time you tried Sister. Come on, now. I went through a lot of troubles to get these. You'll better drink them right now or else…"_ His sister sighed in resignation. Her brother could see through her lies right away. There was no way he would ever fall for it. She had no choice but do as he said even if she didn't like the fact that he went to such lengths for her.

She drunk the bitter tasting potion while her brother stared at her lovingly.

Brother and Sister. They had no other names for themselves. Just two beings with no blood in common that got attached to each other looking for support in a cruel and cold world. Had they met later in their life perhaps they would have become lovers but in their young naivety they didn't even understand the concept. Well maybe she couldn't. Him, on the other hand, was acquainted with the concept and so far he didn't like it at all.

Finally she finished the last vial and slid back under the flimsy covers.

"_The potions should make you feel a little sleepy. Make sure to eat something before falling asleep ok? I have to go now. Hopefully I'll be back in a couple of days. If you need anything ask the old lady in the shack nearby to send some for me all right. Get plenty of rest and get back soon."_ The girl barely nodded through half lidded eye.

"_Will do Brother. Please be careful out there." _The boy simply smiled and left. Once he stepped out of the small structure his warm expression slipped back to the cold mask he used for the rest of the world. The other face was for the only person he vowed to protect and cherish. His only family.

His small feet carried him to the Hag's shack where a great deal of pain was waiting for him without doubt. His suspicions were totally founded.

* * *

Location: Nameless Town – Date: 30 October 1986 (late night)

Scar bolted upright with a silent scream caught in his throat. His whole body was trembling and shivering even if he was sweating bullets. That nightmare woke him up again. It was the third night in a row but this time it was more vivid, more intense than any other time. He couldn't remember it very well. The only clear thing in his head were two words uttered by a cold voice and a flash of green. For such a simple nightmare he was utterly terrified. Furthermore there was something that was troubling him even now that he was awake. His sharpened senses focused around him, looking for the source of his uneasiness. What was that feeling? Like somebody was calling for him without words? What was that sense of constriction inside his chest, like a caged lion ready to jump outside the bars?

Scar sat up on his 'bed' searching the building's only room with his eyes. He had a really bad eyesight and in the darkness he could see anything out of the ordinary. His aunt was still sleeping on the other side of the room, blissfully unaware. Yet something was out of place, his instinct never failed him before.

He stood up and followed the lead inside his chest. As he got closer to an hold cupboard the feeling inside his chest became a pounding hammer. Whatever was calling out for him was right in there. Cautiously he pulled it open. There, among other junks and potions ingredient laid a stick made of yew.

'_No, not a stick. A wand,_" Scar thought. He had seen a wand before. Not many mind you. It was the medium through which Wizard-born like him focused their magic outside of their bodies. And it was calling out to… him? Tentatively, almost fearfully Scar grabbed the wand with his right hand. A jolt of power, acceptance, love run through it and right up to his heart where the Magical Core is located. He couldn't hold the loud gasp as the feeling coursed inside him, revitalizing him, filling and fulfilling him for the very first time. His Magic hummed in his ears resonating in perfect sync with the wand he was now holding. The feeling was so powerful and so encompassing that he didn't notice the movement behind him.

"_What are you doing boy?" _the hag asked with an hard voice. Scar spun around frightened, unconsciously pointing the wand toward the perceived threat. The tip of the stick was glowing with a bright green light of the same color he dreamed about. Two words echoed inside his mind. They were almost to his lips when the woman who kept staring to the wand spoke again, breaking him out of his trance. "_So you finally found it, uh?" _She asked rhetorically. She didn't seem all that surprised to see him wield that particular wand.

"_I… I… I'm sorry aunt. I just woke up and I felt this wand calling me and…"_

"_It's all right," _she cut him. _"It was yours to begin with anyway," she ended._

"_M-mine…?" _he stammered.

"_Yes. Yours. You were holding it tightly the night I've found you. I've never seen a wand giving its allegiance to such a young boy before but then again the circumstances were not ordinary at all."_

"_W-what do you mean?" _The hag simply laughed.

"_Questions, questions. Ask again in the morning and maybe I'll be willing to answer. Go back to sleep now. Tomorrow will be a difficult day for you."_

"_Uh? Why? I thought we didn't have anything to deliver for the next week or so."_

"_Who talked about work, boy? I'm talking about your lessons. Or perhaps you don't want to learn how to use that wand without blowing yourself up?"_

Half a second later Scar was back under the covers_. _The old hag simply chuckled and returned to her sleep as well. Definitely a hard day was ahead of them both.

Just before falling asleep again she wondered if by any chance she was about to turn the young boy in the mean of her own demise. She simply shrugged at the thought. What was life without a little thrill after all?

* * *

Location: Nameless Town – Date: 26 December 1986

Days and weeks flew away since Scar started learning from the old hag. He never considered her harmless by any stretch of the imagination. She beat that notion out of him with her can way before he could even remember. Still her knowledge about poisons, hexes, curses and generally how impair, torture, maim and kill an enemy opened a whole new horizon to the young boy on how scary the old woman was. How did he survive all those years with her he couldn't fathom.

She was very through with her lessons. Slacking and errors were properly discouraged quickly and of course painfully. Not that he gave her many reason to punish him in the first place. As a student he was impeccable. Focused, determined and receptive. There was a great ambition burning inside him and an healthy thirst for knowledge. Since she had told him the tale of her finding him he became determined to find out the reasons of his presence there.

Scar wasn't a fool and it didn't require more than five minutes to make the connection between his appearance there and the magic outburst that brought the foundation of this slum of a town. Ti was just a matter of comparing timetables which could be found easily around that place. Of course he wasn't stupid enough to just run outside and scream his involvement with that night's event. He had no intention whatsoever to become the latest guinea pig for the scholar community that was investigating the matter. Of course that didn't mean that he wouldn't stick his nose around. Perhaps he could sneak inside one of those researcher's house and borrow a few tomes from their library or, like the woman suggested, he could gain the favor of one of them working as errand boy in exchange for the access to their library. Worst case scenario he could gain useful knowledge in other subjects.

Following her advice he started spending more time it the more savory area of the town. It didn't take a while for a few wizard to ask him for his services as errand boy. Of course if he had asked right away to enter their houses as payment they would have simply refused. He had to gain a little trust before proposing that kind of deal.

He kept spending time with her sister every free moment of his days. She started getting better after she took those potion but the still frail girl needed more of those medication and he had very few ways to get them. His trips to the lord mansion became weekly appointments. The initial disgust became dull apathy after the first month. The middle aged wizard with a kink for young boys soon enough involved his wife in his twisted games.

Every time he walked away from there, Scar felt a little less human and his dislike for his kind in general grew exponentially. Yet he couldn't bring himself to stop. He had to get those potions. Dragon pox wasn't something that could be easily cured in that shanty town. No matter how much he needed to soil himself for that purpose he would keep her safe. She was the only one… the only one who could understand his loneliness. They had been together for two years now, since the day he found her shivering under the autumn rain. She, like him, had no name for herself nor anything like a family. Both without any recollection of their parents, they soon became close like actual siblings. Somehow the feeling was very familiar for the young boy who easily acted like a protective older brother.

All of his happiest memories included her to some degree. Even his magic was all to make her smile. The day he showed her the Hover Charm she couldn't keep the wonder out of her eyes. That gleeful expression of hers was worth all the punishment he was subjected every time he failed to perform the incantation. He wasn't about to let his only light fade from his life because he was picky about the means to gain money.

He would keep her safe. From anything and by means necessary.

He took until late December for him to finally gain access to an old man library. A wizard named Aloysius. He had to harness a few potion ingredients from a place in the forest where nobody else wanted to go. Right in the middle of the Trolls turf. Scar shrugged, walked there, picked up the herbs and walked back in less than two hours to the old wizard surpise. The man granted him unlimited access to his library in exchange of a weekly supply of those plants. For Scar it wasn't trouble at all since he walked around there at least once a week. It made it even easier to hang around the Troll tribe and learn something about their culture as well.

Slowly but steadily he kept learning about magic of all types, but also about history both from the wizard-kind point of view and the Troll's. To say that things didn't match up was an understatement on all levels. Then again he quickly understood that the 'official' history was written by the winners who happened to be the 'good guys' every time. With that in mind it was no wonder that no Dark Lord ever won or reigned too long. The term Dark was another word with an extremely loose meaning. Just in the past couple of millennia a few individuals held the title of both Dark and Light Lord at the same time depending from who was describing said character. In Aloysius library he had found at least three different people holding both titles. They were Salazar Slitheryn, Godric Gryffindor and Gellert Grindelwald. Of course there could have been many others but in that particular library those were the only three with tomes written about them from both sides of the barricade. Probably they were also the most noticeable characters in the history of Magical Europe.

Keeping that in mind he wondered if that Dumbledore fellow, who now run things in the United Kingdom, would have been called a Dark Lord as well had he lost the war against Grindelwald. Not to talk about that Voldemort guy. All right, maybe that guy wasn't exactly a nice fellow anyway if what he used to do to Muggles and Muggleborns was any indication but hey…. Wars are won by spilling the blood of the innocents rather than the fighter's. Who knew if the insurgent Dark Lord would have been acclaimed as a Light Lord if his revolt wasn't thwarted by that Boy-Who-Lived hocus-pocus? Food for thoughts like everything else.

After almost three months of studies and practice with the old hag Scar could hold his own in a fight. Long enough to escape anyway.

Finally with the use of magic he could stop doing those… things for those priceless potion and start working for higher prices around the town. He just had one last night at that man service before he could turn page and start a better life.

Of course like often in such cases the night had to reach its darkest before the light of the morning could finally shine on a new day. Poor Scar didn't know what kind of path was walking upon while he stepped on his way back to the mansion beyond the hill. Later he would remember it as the worst and the best night of his life. The night when everything changed. Again.

* * *

Author Note: Another chapter is here. Scar is living a very difficult life and it's going to become worse very soon. Just a moment before going better. Stay tuned for more.

PS: Let me know what you think. I need to know how to improve.

Bye.


	5. Changes

Chapter 4 – Changes

* * *

Location: Somewhere in center German. Date: 27 December 1986

Bertram wasn't a happy man by any stretch of the imagination. He always hated having to deal with the kind of people that lurked around the nameless town. Yet some sort of goods could only be provided there. Of course that didn't mean that he had to go there every single time he needed something from that place. It wasn't neither practical nor wise. Some kind dealings, while better if handled personally, were a liability to one's public image. The Gods only knew, considering the stigma already hovering over his family name, what kind of repercussion could it have being discovered with an hands over the business of that receptacle of crime and vice. He had already enough trouble as it was.

That was the reason for having a proxy to do his dirty dealing over there. A person that, while not properly acceptable by society's standards, could at least pass unnoticed under the scrutiny of the savory part of said society.

Too bad that said contact wasn't showing up when he was supposed to.

They were to meet in a muggle pub, the kind of place where the authorities wouldn't think to snoop around and where there was no chance of being recognized. Plus the place wasn't anything shady even by Muggle standards. The perfect place to end a transaction without being disturbed. Yet his contact was almost an hour late. It that sort of business it wasn't a good sign. Usually it meant that he had been found and that the law enforcers were already on the way. Yet he had this strange feeling that this wasn't quite the case. Luther had been in the business for a long time and made of customer satisfaction his main policy. He was sure that if something got in his way he would have at least let him know to vacate the place.

That was the motivation that, despite what his reason suggested, pushed Bertram to pay for his drink, walk out of pub until he reached a dark road and apparate to Luther's mansion. What he found there was not what he expected to see.

The three story building was a blazing inferno. The fire was devouring every floor like it was a living thing. As a matter of fact It probably was.

"_Fyendfire_," he could only mutter as he watched the flame tongues dance of the once upon a time luxurious structure. Bertram was flabbergasted. This wasn't just a fire that had spread from the initial curse. It was all magical in nature. He wondered who could have produced a curse of that magnitude, after all _Fyendfire,_ like every other spell, was powered by intent. For somebody to generate this amount of flame… it had to be both extremely powerful and with a hell of a resentment. Whomever was the person that Luther had wronged had got back to him with a passion.

He honestly didn't think that Luther and his wife could have come out of that Hell otherwise he would have contacted him already. Well it wasn't that bad of a loss anyway. He was a disgusting person behind that pristine appearance of his. Still, that meant that he had to find another dealer and get out of there before anyone caught wind of what happened there, involving him with the whole mess. He was about to turn and apparated away when the door to the mansion cracked open.

Honestly Bertram thought that the night couldn't offer any other surprises for him at that point but he was forced to reconsider such convictions when a scrawny naked boy stepped outside of that nightmarish scenario. His body was scrawny and covered bodily fluids that were not his own. In his hand a Yew wand was still flaming from its tip. Bertram extracted his own wand out of instinct when their gazes met. Those cold, green orbs could be mistaken for a Killing Curse.

He was wounded and bleeding from several cuts and… other places that aren't supposed to bleed at all. It was rather clear what happened to the boy and judging from the scenario who was responsible for it. Suddenly that fraction of pity he had for his former associate disappeared swallowed by the flames burning in his chest. _'Luther you sick bastard,' _he thought. Of course he knew that the man wasn't a saint '_But a child for Merlin sake…'_

Finally the boy stepped outside of the gates and as he did so the house behind him crumbled, as if only the boy's will kept it standing under the frenzy flames that devoured it. The two stared at each other for a moment before Bertram found his voice again.

"_What happened here?"_ He asked knowing the answer in his heart already. The boy didn't remove his eyes from him when he answered.

"_They took more than they were allowed…."_ His voice came out in a whisper.

"_You… did this by yourself?"_ the man inquired. The boy just nodded. _"How?"_

"_They underestimated me. Took away my wand but left it in plain sight. Then they…. Did what they wanted to me and I could only cry and pray. But my prayers weren't answered but my hatred…my hatred…" _suddenly the boy collapsed on the ground, cue with that the flames suddenly lost power but at the same time they started to spread away from the intended target clearly free from the control of the caster. Out of instinct the man lunged toward the boy and yanked his arm, apparating away a mere fraction of second before a snake made out of fire the size of a pillar slammed where the two used to be. Like a living creature the snake roared to the sky before the distance between it and the caster deprived the creature of the power required to remain in existence. With a final roar the snake faded away, leaving only the normal fire to burn the remnants of the mansion. It was well into the morning before the last flame finally stopped burning.

* * *

Location: Germany, Unknown mansion – Date: 28 December 1986

Scar woke up some time later. He was resting in a soft bed with warm covers, unlike any he had slept in before. It was sort of the bed he thought the old man could have slept in. Was he still in his house? No it couldn't be. He killed him and his wife before burning down the whole place. He was so enraged and hurt that he didn't even bother to rob the place or even attend to his wounds for that matter. It had been so easy to do it. Just a swish of his wand and…. HIS WAND. He looked around frantically but relaxed immediately when he saw it laying on the circular table in the middle of the room just over a pair of pants and a nice shirt, both neatly folded. He stood up clearly surprised by how little his body ached in relation to how it should have hurt. There were no sign of the previous night events. _'Was it only yesterday?'_ No cuts, no bruises, no blood. He looked around for a moment and then proceed to dress. It was clear that whoever it was that had brought him there bared no ill intent at least at that point in time, otherwise his wand wouldn't have laid there nor they would have taken care of him to such lengths. Maybe they could have healed him if they needed him healthy for some reason unknown to him, but that whole treatment was over the requirement for that purpose.

So he was there, in a luxurious mansion, well dressed and cared for without any hints as of the reason for it.

He didn't like it in the slightest. Life had quickly taught him that very few people did something without gain. Actually the only instance he could think about, where somebody would do something for him without anything in return, was the relationship he had with his sister. Beside that he couldn't bring himself to trust anybody without knowing their reasons first.

Keeping that in mind he walked to the door and pulled it open.

'Hm. Not locked? So they aren't trying to restrict my movement either.' Cautiously her stepped outside and waked long the corridor filled with paintings. They weren't animated like those wizards painting he had read about somewhere. Well it had to be expected. A single animated painting had to cost a great deal of money. It's not like anybody would spend that kind of sum for every single frame in his house. He wandered around the seemingly empty floor for a minute until a very distinctive smell caught his attention as well as his stomach's. With a loud growl he was reminded that he hadn't eat at least in two days and while he didn't know that particular smell, it definitely felt like food.

His small feet carried him down a flight of stairs to a corridor that looked a lot less luxurious, probably reserved for the house's staff. Following the trail even further he found himself in a small, well lit kitchen where a single small creature was arranging what looked like a feast by the amount of food already waiting on the table. That was of course by Scar's standards. It was actually a pretty light breakfast, the ideal kind of stuff for a recovering individual, but for Scar it was a week worth of food. He was seriously considering of nicking some when his traitorous stomach gave his presence away. The creature squealed and spun around eyeing the newcomer warily before screaming "_Young Master is awake. Young Master must not be up yet. Young Master must rest._" It was wielding a frying pan in his rant and Scar almost rose his wand to protect himself if not for the clear lack of malice in the thing eyes. Whatever it was, the creature was concerned about him.

"_Uuuh. What are you?"_ Scar asked keeping his guard up. The creature blinked then bowed still holding the pan.

"_I is being Tippy, House Elf of the…."_

"_Tippy!"_ An adult voice called from behind Scar. _"That is enough."_ Scar spun around ready to face any threat but found himself staring in the caring eyes of a man in his fifties. Long blonde hairs and a thin beard of the same color. Much like the Elf this person didn't exude any malice. It took him a moment to recall the memories of the previous night and recognize the man he had met outside Luther's mansion.

"_How are you feeling?"_ The man asked with a calculating gaze. While he wasn't ill intended he still was on his guard. Well considering the circumstances of their meeting Scar couldn't blame the man.

"_Better,"_ was the short dry answer. _"Are you the one who took care of me? Why?"_

"_That would require some time to explain. Please follow me. Tippy serve breakfast in the dining hall."_

"_At once, Master,"_ the elf replied.

Scar followed the man warily even if by then it was clear that he wasn't in peril. He was just too geared in keeping his guard up around strangers. He let it down just a little the previous night and look where it had brought him. He gritted his teeth in rage at the thought of those two pigs. Even though he had slaughtered them that black flame inside him was still burning his chest. He had been so careless… so powerless.

"_Relax kid. They are dead. You have seen to it."_ The boy just nodded. This man was either awfully receptive or…

"_You are a Legilmens aren't you?"_ Scar asked. He had of course read about them and he also knew how to counter them. Theoretically. Occlumency was a very a very difficult branch of magic, and while he believed to be gifted enough to one day master it, he hadn't even begun practicing it yet. He couldn't believe that he would stumble into a Legilmens this early in life. It was a subtle art that wasn't too widespread and certainly there were none in the town he grew up in. _"Are you reading my mind?"_He asked with a hint of rage in his voice.

The man looked at Scar with a slightly offended look, as if it was insulted. _"There's no need to probe your mind, kid. You are broadcasting your thoughts around you so strongly that I'd have to shield my mind not to hear them. I advise you to learn at least how to keep them inside your head if not to shield your mind completely."_

Scar nodded in acceptance. While he had no reason to trust the nameless wizard he knew enough about the art of mind reading to know he was saying the truth. In addition there was the fact that the man was walking in from of him, exposing his back to Scar in a gesture of implied trust. Whomever he was, the man was not asking for trust without giving it first.

The two reached the dining room where the Elf was already disposing the breakfast over the table. The man motioned for Scar to sit, and the boy did as he was told. In front of him laid the most wondrous meal he had ever seen. He didn't dare to touch it though. Not because he believed it could be poisoned or something like that but because, even though he had no reason to exercise them where he lived, he knew about manners. It was impolite at the very best not to wait for the host.

Bertram noted the fact with a barely raised eyebrow. The kid wasn't as bad as he first believed. He was smart for once, cultured, and of course extremely powerful if the previous night events where any indication. Of course a very '_distressful'_ situation like that one could have brought the child to dig deeper into his core but he had a very great potential to say the least . _"Go ahead," _he told him.

Scar didn't need to be told twice and begun to eat with as much restrain as he could. The stuff was simply delicious and it came in big servings. Bertram chuckled at the sight of the boy finally acting as one.

Twenty minutes later a satisfied Scar had to suppress a burp from his very full stomach.

"_So now, why have you brought me here?"_ Scar asked in a no-nonsense tone. Bertram frowned as the kid reverted to his previous self.

"_You are welcome,_" he said sarcastly. "Although _if I was in your place I'd be curious as well. Well, let's make it short. You are here because you've killed my business associate the other night. Don't worry I won't hold it against you. I would have done the same. Luther was a bastard and won't be missed. Anyway I have brought you here initially out instinct when you collapsed, losing control of your spell, not because I wanted anything from you. It was a pretty close call for you there."_

"_Initially you say. And now?"_

"_Now I find myself lacking a contact in town. Luther used to provide me with some rare potions I couldn't find as easy anywhere else. Now that I've lost him I need to find another person that can give me that kind of stuff. I suppose you are familiar with the population there. I could use your expertise to find another person who…"_

"_I'll do it," Scar cut him of abruptly._

"_I beg your pardon?"_

"_I said I'll do it. I'll be your contact."_

"_And why do you think you are good enough for that, kid?" _Bertram inquired. "_I don't know you at all."_

"_Because I was the one providing Luther," he spat the name "those potions."_

"_Ah. That would explain your presence there last night. But we still have a trust issue."_ Bertram concluded. Scar simply shrugged.

"_I don't think we do. For what I understand you saved my life last night. I suppose I owe you a Wizard Life Debt, don't I? That should make it impossible for me to consciously bring you harm directly or indirectly unless in self defense. I don't think you could find a more trustworthy courier, right? "_

"_Ah. So you know about that too. You are extremely knowledgeable for a child. Hmm you hold a wand, you clearly know how to use it and you seem bright enough to carry on such a simple task. Tell me, what do you want in exchange for your services kid?"_

"_The same amount of money you gave that… Luther. And eventually I'll need someone to bring me some potions I can't find in town."_ Bertram eyed the kid warily. What kind of potions could him want? Then something clicked in his mind.

"_Dragon pox medicines?"_ Scar nodded. Bertram laughed. _"Well the world is a small place after all. It seems that with the death of the middle man we both have gained something. You've got yourself a deal kid."_

"_Good. But what did you gain from his death? It seems to me that you are going to spend even more with me."_ Bertram shrugged.

"_Not by much. But at least my new business partner isn't as slimy as the previous one. That got to count for something."_

Scar really couldn't see the humor but nodded anyway. At least with that he could have a steadier provision of medicines without having to whore himself.

"_So is there anything you need to know for this kind of job?"_ Bertram asked.

The two of them spent the following hour lining down the details of their partnership. Scar was quite satisfied with the outcome. By taking Luther place in the deal he could nick a good amount of money for himself. There was no way though he couldn't tell the hag what happened. Luther was well known in town and his death would be already old news by then. He couldn't postpone his return any longer.

Bertram apparated both of them half an hour of walk away from the town, on the opposite side of Luther Mansion. That way it would be unlikely that anybody would question him about that. As soon as they arrived Scar rolled himself in the mud, dirtying his clothes. Bertram silently appreciated the boy's intelligence. Walking in that shanty town dressed properly would attract too much unwanted attention. On the other hand he wondered just what kind of life Scar lived to be that prudent. What kind of childhood did he have for not being too upset about being raped and having killed just the night before? Was he used to it?

With a nod Scar walked away and Bertram just looked at him for a moment before calling for him.

"_Kid. You never told me your name. How should I call you?"_ Scar just looked at him from behind his shoulder. He didn't like the idea of Bertram knowing him by his nickname. It was known well enough in town as Scar and, while it wouldn't be too hard to track him anyway, he preferred to make things just a little more complicated, just in case. He racked his brain for a name that didn't sound stupid or plainly fake.

"Harry. You can call me Harry." The name rolled out of his mouth with ease, feeling almost right for some reason.

Bertram nodded and with a loud crack he was gone. Scar stared at the empty space for a moment before dropping on the ground shaking like a leaf. He held his knees against his chest and cried, tears streaming down his face. He held it all inside, the pain, the fear and the hatred until he was finally alone. He couldn't, wouldn't, show any weakness around others. He couldn't afford it. He had to be strong in a world where the weak ended up dead every day.

Fifteen minutes later he wiped his nose and stood up resuming his walk back. He made his sister wait long enough already. She must have been worried by then. With that in mind he walked a little faster. Just a little more and he would be home. Finally.

* * *

Author note: there goes another chapter. I hope you are enjoying the story so far. Don't worry things for Scar are about to change drastically. Well at least after another time skip.

Stay tuned for more.

Bye.


	6. Turning point

**Chapter 5 – Turning Point**

* * *

Location: Nameless Town

Explaining the old hag that her major customer was dead and why could have been a very painful experience if Scar didn't manage to nail another job with Luther's contact. Instead the woman praised him for turning the situation to his favor even if he warned him not to go around and kill every potential customer just because they got a little 'frisky'. Scar almost cursed her when she referred to the abuse he had withstood with that term. He held back just because she still had to teach him a great deal of things and because of his agreement with Bertram. She was fundamental in providing the potions he needed otherwise he would have already cut every connection with her.

The following months passed in a blur, between his studies with the hag and with Aloysius. The researcher granted him unlimited access to his library in exchange for those rare herbs. He thought that he got the best part of the deal but he was wrong. Between his studies and the interaction with the Trolls Scar was learning things few others had the chance or even bothered to. He had learned to speak with the huge creatures as fluently as their grunting language permitted. Although they had no magic to teach their extremely ancient culture was filled with reference to historical events that pointed him to research into a certain directions rather than others. Most of the time he ended up discovering things he already knew but more often than not, following the lead provided by their tales he managed to uncover spell that, even if not powerful on their own, were a variant from the most known curses, hexes and charms.

Very few bothered to learn spell that fell out of use centuries before but Scar understood the value of a curse which counter was long forgotten. It made extremely more difficult to deal with him from a magical point of view. As far as he could tell his magical power was average, save for the outburst that cursed night, but then again it was not surprising that extremely dire condition allowed to dig deeper into one's own core.

In a town where killing a child was no worth noticing, Scar preferred to bet his continued survival on his unpredictability rather that his raw power. There was no way that he could challenge a fully fledged wizard head on.

Her sister recovered completely from her illness much to Scar delight six months later. Her cheerful attitude and her affection for him were the only bright thing in the young man life.

He never told her what happened with Luther and his wife but the girl was intelligent and receptive. She knew something had hurt him deeply even if he didn't show it on the outside. She knew better that ask him about it. Knowing his stubbornness he wouldn't reveal a thing until it was strictly necessary. She knew that he was probably trying to shield her from something, and she was happy that he cared for her, but whatever happened was slowly eroding him from the inside. She had to do something about it.

She finally confronted him a night as they took a stroll together.

"Hey Brother," she begun, "would you tell me what's bothering you?"

"Bothering? Nothing is bothering me Sis," he pretended. "Why do you ask?" His sister huffed loudly in response.

"You are not fooling me. I know that something happened last December, when the mansion on the other side of the forest burned to the ground. You have been edgy since then and you keep looking behind your back as if you were expecting someone to attack you anytime. What's going on. What's making you so scared?"

"I'm not scared," he retorted with a little too enthusiasm for his usual calm self and that was all the confirmation she needed from him. Something had scarred him deeply and she was more than determined to find out and help him heal.

"Your voice betray you. Please brother. Let me help you as you always help me," she placed an hand on his arm and the warm touch was all it took to break his resolve.

He told her about that fateful night, about the abuse, about the rape, the killing and subsequent deal with Bertram. He didn't tell her why he did what he used to do with Luther but she was no fool. The dragon pox medicine was no easy to come by around there. It didn't take long for her to connect the dot and understand exactly where he procured himself those potions.

She broke down crying in his arms, so much for her consoling him.

"That… that's why I didn't want to tell you," he stammered between his own tears and sobs. He really didn't want to cry and keep his strong façade, but he couldn't help but follow his sister as the dam broke.

On her part, beyond the obvious pain she felt for him, she was absolutely floored by the fact that somebody, anybody, would go to such an extent for her, even her self-proclaimed brother. She cried long into the night, interrupting her wail only to thank him, hug him and kiss his cheeks in gratitude. She fell asleep in his arms, safe and protected. She didn't know that for him that single moment was more than enough for him to make all the pain worthwhile.

From that day onward the sibling were even closer than before and she joined her in his studies and 'strolls' with the Trolls. She was very scared at first, but with Scar guidance she managed to blend in easily. She was a witch if the few magical outburst were any indication but she didn't have a wand for herself. His brother allowed her to borrow his to practice but she didn't manage to cast any spell despite her effort. If it was only because of the wand or because she was still too young they didn't know.

She kept him company regardless of her ability to perform magic and in her company the year flew by. The winter was already on their doors when his sister asked for the first time a gift from him to celebrate their meeting years prior.

"A gift…? I don't know what I could possibly give you but if you tell me what you want maybe…"

"A name," she said without losing a beat.

"A… name?" he asked.

"Yes. I never had a name and I'd really like to have one. I'd really like if you would choose it for me."

"Yes but…. Why?"

"Because… because a name should be the first thing given to us as we come to this world and yet…"

"Leda," he said.

"W-what?" She asked surprised.

"I will call you Leda. Do you like it?"

"Y-yes.. but why?"

"I… read it some time ago. It was the name of a girl in a tale I read. She was the sister of the main character and… she was his only family… and…" he stammered somewhat embarrassed. "I actually felt like calling you that for some time now."

"Why.. Why didn't you?"

"Because… because everybody can call you a name but… only I can call you sister, right?" He said red faced. She hugged him tightly and whispered in his ear.

"Only you will call me sister for the rest of my life. I swear." He simply hugged her back with all he had.

Although they lived in relative poverty they were content with what they had, namely each other, and Scar wouldn't want to risk it for anything in the world, but as it usually happens, life doesn't just sit back and watch us enjoying what we have.

* * *

Bertram walked inside his father house in long strides. When he was summoned he couldn't believe what he was hearing. His father, the strongest man he ever knew, was ill. Terminally ill.

"Father!" He half shouted entering his private room.

"Keep it down boy. What have I taught you about shouting inside my house?" Bertram recoiled at the stern voice of his father, seated behind his desk as usual. The gray haired man with the slightly crooked looked at him from behind his round spectacles with a fire burning in his eyes. Definitely not the image of the dying wizard he had expected. In fact the man looked no worse for wear.

"Uh? Father?" he asked surprised by the common situation.

"Who else did you expect, you twit? The muggle Queen of England?"

"But… Father the elves told me that you were on your death bed." The elder wizard eyebrow twitched.

"You should know better that take the words of a scared House Elf at face value. I'm ill and I'm dying, that's true but it's a long process and it will require years if the healer knows what's he talking about. Which I'm not quite sure yet. I made it my personal challenge to outlive the berk."

"Ah. Well then… that's good news?" He asked unsure of which emotional state he should be in at that moment.

"Somewhat. At least I have more than enough time to put things in order before leaving this realm."

"I see. I don't suppose that you summoned me here just for a discussion on your health."

"Of course not. There are several things that have to be taken care of, beginning with the need of an heir for our family line."

"Father I…"

"Don't. I know it 's not your fault that you can't produce an heir as much as it's not my fault that I managed to sire only you. It remains the fact that our family is dying and our name will simply vanish from this world with nothing but shame associated with it. My foolish brother just had to screw things up like he did."

"I understand father but what can we do? Even if we manage to obtain an adoption the family magic wouldn't recognize anyone but a blood relative. Simply obtaining the name won't…" Bertram trailed off as he understood what was his father idea. "Blood adoption? Father that's not only highly illegal but the requirement for it to work…"

"It's the life of one wizard related to the family of adoption. I know Bertram."

"Father! Just because you are dying it doesn't mean…"

"It does, Son. I swore to my father and his father before him that I would restore the family name to its former glory or die trying. It seems that the latter is the only feasible option remained. We need someone to carry the family name and magic."

"Father, I'm…"

"Don't feel guilty Bertram," his father said. "You never disappointed me and you tried your very best to restore our name. I can hardly blame you for not succeeding. Not when I share the same failure."

"What… what do you want me to do?" Bertram asked.

"Find somebody. A children both young and intelligent enough to accomplish what we failed to do. I don't care if you have to kidnap and _Obliviate_ him but bring him to me at all costs."

"I… I will see to it. I… might just know someone that might fit our requirement."

"You do? And pray tell where did you find this child?"

Bertram told his father the tale of his meeting with the boy named Harry and what he thought of him after one year of interaction with him. The boy certainly had power and smarts enough to be a candidate for what they had in mind. Coming form that hellish place it wouldn't probably require very little pressure, if any, to convince him to join his family.

"Hmm. By your description it seems that this boy has some potential. Bring him to me. I will evaluate him myself."

"What am I allowed to offer him for his cooperation? The boy might have some requests in order to accept our proposal. I'd rather have him join by his own choice rather than force him to. It might backfire if we push him magically."

"I'll leave it to you. Give him everything you think reasonable. If he manage to join the family it will all be his sooner or later anyway."

"I see. I'll contact him immediately then."

"See that it is done. We don't have another chance to make it work. I have only this one life to trade."

Bertram stood up from his chair and walked outside. He had to Floo to his mansion near the town if he wanted to contact the boy as fast as possible.

* * *

Three days later Bertram still hadn't managed to get in touch with Harry, much to his dismay. The last information he managed to scrape came from a wizard named Aloysius who told him that the boy run errands in the forest for him. The scholar reassured him that the boy would show up at his house the following day to deliver his weekly supply of herbs and plants. Bertram asked him to deliver the boy a message to meet him at the usual spot in two days to discuss some affairs. Some gold changed pocket to insure the swiftness of the message.

* * *

The boy and his sister were coming back from the Troll settlement together when the unexpected happened. The forest like any other wild habitat housed many different types of predators but the snakes weren't the most frequent species available in the cold climate of that place. That's why Scar and Leda were utterly surprised when from the bushes a scaly head rose hissing menacingly.

The snake was huge by any standard, easily twice as long as they were tall. Lead barely had time to react to the sudden movement of the beast head, but she managed to push his brother away from the snake's line of attack. She wasn't as lucky. The snake bit her, sinking its fang into her skinny arm, pouring venom through her veins. She screamed, feeling the substance coursing in her body.

The snake let her go and roared his head back to attack again, opening his jaw wide to swallow its prey. It didn't manage to complete its motion when the tiny frame of the boy tackled him away from the girl.

_§You bastard! Don't touch her!§_ Scar hissed not even noticing what kind of sounds his throat was producing.

The snake slid away, its slit eyes open wide in surprise.

_§A Ssspeaker?§ _The snake hissed back, retreating as far as it could from the boy. The rare humans that spoke the language of the snake were known for being extremely dangerous. Hatchling or not.

Scar realized in that very moment that was capable of understand what the snake was saying. His young brain didn't need more than two seconds to realize the implications. Snakes didn't speak any of the many languages of the humankind. He was the one speaking and understanding the tongue of the snakes. He was a Parseltongue. Too bad he didn't have the luxury of enjoying his newly discovered talent in that moment.

Scar pointed his wand toward the beast ready to send curses flying when the snake spoke again.

_§Don't! If you kill me the other one will die from my poison in three cycles of the Sun.§_

_§I'll kill you and I'll rip away your glands to produce the antidote.§ _"Avada Kedavra!" he shouted.

The green jet of light sailed through the air toward its victim, missing the target by mere inches.

_§Ssstop! I will give you one of my fangs. It contains more than enough poison.§ _ The snake roared his head back and smashed its mouth against a nearby rock, dislodging a couple of fangs, that rolled on the ground. _§Ssee? Now you can help the other one. Just let me go.§ _ It said, unwilling to turn its back to the prey turned predator. He could try and hide into the bushes it came out from, but he knew that the boy would hunt him down. Not knowing his skill and power, making a deal with him was the best course of action. It could find more easy and meaty prey anyaway.

_§All right. Get away from here. If I'll ever meet you again I'll turn you into a purse.§_ Scar hissed threateningly. He really wanted to rips his skin for attacking Leda but his priority was to save his sister before enacting revenge from her assailant.

The snake didn't know what a purse was and it didn't want to find out. Slowly, it slid back without turning, until the boy was out of sight.

When the snake finally disappeared Scar put his wand away and rushed to his sister aid. The girl was unconscious, her body trembling slightly. Scar pulled her up after pocketing the fangs carefully and carried her to the town that was barely a few minutes away from their location.

He rushed through the crowd, all the way to the hut where he lived with the old hag carrying the limp form of his sister in his arm, uncaring of the pain his underdeveloped muscles were subjected to.

"_Aunt!"_ He screamed running inside. _"I need your help."_

"_What is this?" _She asked turning away from her cauldron. _"Who is this girl?"_

"She's…" Scar considered his answer. _"She's a friend. She saved me from a poisonous snake but she got bitten in return. I have some of the poison. Please, you have to brew an antidote." _He pleaded.

"_I don't have to do a damn thing boy. Potion ingredients are extremely precious. What do you have to offer for a cure? Hmm?" _She taunted him. He had taken him in out of curiosity and later out of convenience, but he had no love for the boy, much less for the unknown girl.

"_I… I don't have anything. I just…"_

"_If you don't have anything to offer than I don't have anything to give. Begone now. I have more important matters to attend to."_

Scar was shaking in suppressed rage. He knew that the woman wouldn't do anything free but he thought, hoped, that she had at least some form of love for him, enough to make her act selflessly for once. He was of course mistaken. That town wasn't a place for kind hearted spirits by any stretch of the imagination. He was probably one of the very few that would go out his way to help somebody else.

He spun on his heels and run outside, still holding the tiny frame of her sister in his arms. The snake said he had three days to administer an antidote. He had to find a place to make her rest while he looked for a solution. He didn't know the what time it required to brew the potion. Some of them took weeks if not months to prepare. He had to find another way to deal with the situation.

In that very moment he thanked his particular upbringing. Being raised in an environment where panicking during a crisis would definitely lead to death taught him to keep his cool even in the most dire situations, when despair kept eroding your spirit and will to fight.

Not wanting to leave his sister completely defenseless he opted to take her to the only place where he could search for a cure: Aloysius's home. He didn't know that he was already walking down a path that would chance both his life and the lives of those around him.

"_Mr. Aloysius!"_ He screamed barging inside the wizard house. The wards were attuned to his magical signature and let him in without effort. His unconscious sister went unnoticed through the magical defenses due to her inability to be a threat in any form or shape.

"What in the name of Merlin is going on here?" The alarmed wizard asked hearing the door slam. "Oh It's just you. What..? Who's the girl? What's wrong with her?" He asked sympathetically.

'_At least his reaction is a more humane.'_ Scar thought. He retold him the same story he gave the hag while Aloysius lead him to a comfortable bed.

'_Oh dear. I am no potioneer nor I am an expert on reptiles. I have no clue where to find an antidote. I don't think a Bezoar would cut it in this case. None of my acquaintances are knowledgeable on that fron either. Perhaps one of the smugglers around here could help you, but that would be both dangerous, and besides, you would need to know exactly what kind of potion you are looking for."_

"_Do you have any book on the topic of snakes or poisons?"_ Scar asked.

"_I'm afraid that you are out of luck. I don't think that anybody around here is renowned for his expertise on the subject. You could ask around for a healer, but the likelihood to find one in time are…"_

"_Damn! If only I could get in touch with Bertram then…"_

"_Bertarm?"_ Aloysius interrupted him. _"Some wizard with long blonde hair and a beard, clearly rich? He came here looking for you not too long ago. He said that he would meet you in two days at the usual place. Paid me an hefty amount of money to make sure you knew about it."_

Scar jumped on his feet from his sister sickbed.

"_Really?"_

"_Yes. In fact he was here not longer that half an hour ago. Had he not apparated as soon as he was outside of the wards you could have just crossed him on your way here."_

"_Damn." _Scar swore. _"That's cutting it too close. The snake said three days." _He said to himself. The meaning of that statement didn't escape the keen mind of the old researcher.

"_Wait, what do you mean the snake said three days?"_

"_Ah? Uhm… I'm a Parseltongue. __Once I've threatened him with with a few curse he told me that his poison took three days to kill."_

"_A Parseltongue, eh? You sure are a boy full of surprises. A word of advice. Simpletons and lesser minds would consider this gift of yours the taint of Dark Wizard. Don't share this knowledge with anyone less than trustwhorty." _Scar nodded in understanding. His knowledge of history already gave him a little insight on how people reacted to oddities and to differences in general. With diffidence, hate and outright violence. Still it pleased him that Aloysius was open minded and caring enough to advise him_. "Anyway for the time being there's very little we can do but administer her a bezoar, just in case. You should also keep her fever at bay to extend the time at our disposal. I suppose that this Bertram guy has the contacts you need to find an antidote."_

"_Yes he… he deals in potions and antidotes. If anybody can find it that's him but…"_

"_Listen, Scar. There's very little we can do right now. Let's stick to keep her fever down until we manage to find a cure."_

"_You don't expect me to sit down and wait until …."_

"_No," Aloysius cut him off. "I'm expecting you to stick your nose in any book on the local fauna until you find an hint on the snake that poisoned her. I'll ask around to my colleagues if they have any books on reptiles I'm not aware about. In the meanwhile I'm expecting you to take care of your sister."_

"_I.. I never said she's my sister." _Scar replied surprised.

"_I might as well spend most of my time with my nose buried in books but that doesn't make me blind to human relationship. She might not be your sister by blood but the way you care for her speaks volumes. You are not yet good enough at hiding your heart from adults who care to look." _Aloysius explained._ "I only one thing to say on this matter. The feelings you have for her… don't ever let them go."_

"_I.. I won't. Thanks."_ With a sharp nod Aloysius walked outside in search of the knowledge to help is small friend, leaving a dumbfounded boy to puzzle exactly what the old scholar had to gain by helping him. Realizing that he wasn't going to find an answer anytime soon he turned again to take care of his sister, hoping that he could meet with Bertram in time to save the life of the only person that mattered to him.

* * *

Author notes:

Here's another chapter. The background of Scar/Harry life is almost completed and in a couple of chapter the adventure should pick up the pace. Stay tuned for more and don't forget to share your opinion with me (read: begging for reviews)

Till next time.


	7. Adoption

**Chapter 6 – Adoption (note: chapter might be subjected to re-editing later)**

* * *

"_I found it!"_ Scar cheered pointing his finger toward a book he had been reading for quite some time. Almost two whole days of research had finally paid off.

Aloysius rushed to his small guest's side looking at the picture in the dusty tome. _"A Quetzalcoatl? You didn't tell me he had wings,"_

"_He didn't, but I'm sure it's this one."_

"_It's a magical snake native of South America. Well, snake that size aren't common around here anyway. It would make sense if it had escaped from some smugglers. Perhaps its wings have been cut to prevent escape. They are known to re-grow in time. Are you sure it's this one? We won't have the chance to try again."_

"_I'm positive. It was this one,"_ Scar confirmed.

"_Very well then. This book says that brewing the antidote will require just a couple of hours if you have enough poison as a starting base. The other ingredients are rather common. I know an apothecary that can provide them fairly quickly. I'll get in touch with him immediately."_

"_Aloysius, I…. Thanks." _Scar said honestly. If the old wizard hadn't helped him he wouldn't have known what to do.

"_Nonsense. It's normal to help people in need."_ Aloysius waved leaving the house.

The concept of helping a stranger or even a simple acquaintance was totally new, but not unwelcome, for the boy. After the wizard closed once more the door behind him, Scar turned and reached his sister. Leda had regained consciousness just a couple of times in the past two days. Barely enough to feed her and reassure her.

Two hours later Aloysius returned with a leather bag filled with various herbs. They still lacked a potion set to brew the antidote but Scar was confident that Bertram could provide it easily.

"I've found everything we need. If you are sure that this Bertram can find us a competent brewer in a short time we should be fine. I'll watch over your sister. You go meet this guy quickly. The sooner he start brewing the better."

Scar nodded and entrusted his sister to Aloysius care and run to the meeting point. His small feet carried him swiftly and he arrived long before the established time. He kept his nervousness at bay during his wait, It wouldn't be of any use to show any form of weakness in front of his business partner. It could be used against him in a way or another.

With a loud _POP_ Bertram appeared from thin air. His eyes settled on the boy, a smile was already forming on his face, when he picked up something from Harry's aura. The boy had learned to reign in his thoughts in the past year but his emotions still escaped his control. It was nothing like Occlumency, just a form of mental discipline, but it quite a feat for a boy his age.

"Harry. What's wrong?" Harry-Scar flinched when he understood that Bertram could still see through him. It unnerved him greatly that anybody could read him that easily even without Legimency.

"Bertram I… I need your help." He said with a little tremble in his voice that Bertram didn't miss. The boy was a miniature adult that lived a life of hardship. If something troubled him it couldn't be a small thing.

"Of course. What can I do for you?" He asked. It was a good idea to indebt the boy to him more than he already was. Not that he wouldn't help him anyway, it was just an added value.

"Not here. Can we please apparate over at Aloysius's?"

"Sure. Hold on tight."

A couple of seconds and one uncomfortable squeezing sensation later both wizards where standing just outside the ward of the aforementioned wizard house. Harry hurried inside followed by the older man who still had no idea what all the commotion was all about. When they entered the room where Leda was resting his very keen mind understood everything. In the past year Harry behavior always hinted that he had someone waiting for his return, and now that person was probably laying on the bed in front of him.

"She was bitten by a Quetzalcoatl two days ago," Harry explained. "We have all the ingredients to brew an antidote but we don't have the skill or the equipment to make it. You must know many potioneers. I can't pay for it but I can work for free. Please help her!"

"All right. We'll discuss the payment later. First we must move her over to my house. I'll owl my personal potioneer as soon as we get there. We don't have too much time left."

* * *

Four hours later Harry was pacing up and down the corridor in front of the room where Leda. They managed to brew the potion in time but the time was almost up when they finally managed to administer it. Currently a healer was checking on his sister to see if she would manage to survive.

When the door opened the medi-witch was almost assaulted by the very concerned boy.

"How is she? Will she make it? Will she be all right?" He inquired. The woman smiled at him softly.

"She will make it without consequences. The bezoar neutralized a great part of the toxins within the poison and since you kept the fever in check there won't be any after effects. She was very lucky to have you taking care of her."

Harry knees gave in at her reassurance. Almost two days of fear and nonstop research had finally caught up with him . Silent tears run from his eyes as he sat on the floor. His sister was going to make it. She was going to be fine. Elation and happiness invaded him and he laughed without restraints.

In her career the medi-witch had seen many different and odd reactions to good news, thus she wasn't surprised by the sight of a child laughing through his tears.

Bertram watched the child give expression to his feelings. He had to admit that Harry was extraordinary in every sense of the word. He had endured and deal the stress of a situation beyond his control with a calm head and great focus despite the obvious emotional involvement. Judging by Aloysius recollection of the past two days Harry showed a degree of control that surpassed most adults. It was disturbing knowing that it was a result of an upbringing that no child should have experienced, but it was a blessing for Bertram family. They boy had been forged by a life of difficulties and he had emerged victorious if scarred. Thinking about the night he had first met him, Bertram knew that the signs of a great wizard in the making were already showing themselves. He couldn't help but grin a little knowing that his father would approve of the child after a little testing.

He let the boy cry and laugh until he fell asleep on the ground right in front of his sister's room. Bertram stood up from his seat and picked up the boy in his arm. He felt light like the night he had first brought him into his house. In hindsight that had probably been the best thing he had ever done for his family and as a human being.

For a split second Bertram pitied him. Whatever choice Harry would make in regard of his adoption there was little doubt that he would shoulder great responsibilities in the times ahead. Silently he vowed to be there for him as much as he could regardless of his successful adoption.

He motioned the medi-witch to follow him and lead them both to another room where the child could rest while the healer examined him thoughtfully.

* * *

Harry woke up in an unknown room – again- but his mind quickly put together the memories of the previous (?) day. He was at Bertram's place. One of the many anyway. It wasn't the same house he brought him the first time they met unless it was magically expanded and refurnished. Most likely it was another place altogether. Slowly he sat up and looked around. He was pleasantly surprised to see his sister asleep beside him, curled up to a ball. She was snoring lightly and he couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. Judging from her healthy appearance he realized that he must have been asleep at least for a day if not more.

He nudged her a little and she stirred. Slowly she opened her eyes and met his gaze. Half a second later Scar was on his back again with Leda above him, hugging him for dear life.

Neither of them spoke a word of gratitude. Such was their love that they would go to hell and back for the other without blinking. They stayed there for some time, simply basking in each other comfortable presence until, as usual, a third party came to disrupt their corner of heaven.

A soft knock preceded the opening of the door. Leda didn't even bother to remove herself from the straddling position.

"Ah you are finally awake," Bertram said slipping inside the room. "How are you both feeling?"

_*GROOOWL*_

Harry's stomach expressed his answer before the boy could open his mouth. Leda giggled into his neck and Harry couldn't help but blush slightly while Bertram laughed relieved.

"I'll take that as a good sign. You gave this little lady quite a scare after you kept sleeping for two whole days."

"Two days? I don't feel as weak as I should after that kind of time," then he narrowed his eyes. "Have you fed me nutrient potions while I was unconscious?" While it was a good thing he didn't like the fact that somebody administered him any sort of potion, nor he enjoyed being even more indebted with the older wizard.

"Yes. You were underfed enough as it was. It was unavoidable. I understand that you don't like being indebted with anybody but your sister wouldn't leave me alone until I did something for your health."

Harry felt Leda blush in his shoulder but said nothing.

"I see. It appears that my debt to you is growing by the minute. Is there any way beside money to repay what I owe you?"

Bertram rubbed the bridge of his nose. In the past two days he had thought about the best way to approach the subject with the man behind the appearance of a kid and despite his best efforts, being blunt was the best course of action he could imagine with him. While chatting with Harry was intellectually stimulating Bertram knew that we it came to business with the boy being direct was the best idea. He liked that.

"I'll cut it short Harry. I came looking for you four days ago because I had a long term proposal for you. Something that would be mutually beneficial." Harry motioned for him to go ahead. Leda was silently listening to the exchange ready to make her part in any way it could be needed. "Right. You see Harry, my family, like many pureblood lines recently is suffering from a certain misfortune when it comes to furthering the line. I am the last of my line as I have no brothers and I am unable to sire a child. These circumstances have brought me to look for a potential heir outside the blood relations."

"Why me?" Harry asked knowing exactly where the conversation was headed. His keen mind was already processing all possible implications, advantages and disadvantages of accepting or refusing what Bertram was proposing. Bertram smirked inwardly.

"Your question is a very good example for my choice. You have immediately caught up with was I was insinuating and not for a moment you believed I was talking about someone else. You are smart and intelligent beyond you apparent age. You have confidence in yourself and a clear grasp of your abilities, you are able to examine and deal with a situation with a cool head despite the stakes and we don't even need to broach you talent as a wizard. Do you need to hear more?"

Harry pondered for just a couple of seconds.

"This deal has no drawbacks for me. That's simply not possible. What is that you aren't telling me?"

Bertram inward smirk slipped on his outward features. _'Damn I like this boy.'_

"You just keep confirming my judgment. Of course there is a downside for every upside. The procedure to get you into the family is highly illegal, and I'm not talking just about bribing a few well placed officials to get the papers in order. The blood adoption to grant you access to the family magic…"

Harry cut him off. "Do you honestly expect me to become part of a family that's willing to sacrifice one of its members to achieve its goals?"

Bertram was doubly pleased by Harry's moral fiber and a little less by his conclusion-jumping. Not that much since a little show of immaturity from a kid was actually a good thing.

"Don't insult us, Harry. My father is dying of illness and it was his express wish to use what's left of his life to bring in another wizard to our folds." He spoke in a quiet tone but Harry didn't miss the sternness in his voice.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I shouldn't have assumed."

"No you should never assume. However I concede that in this situation it was easy to misinterpret the meaning of my words. As I was saying, the procedure is highly illegal but that's not the point. The real problem is that our family name is a little… tainted. My uncle wasn't exactly popular back in the days and while my grandfather disowned him publically the downfall of his actions still curses us after more than forty years. If you are going to accept and take over the family name you'll have to deal with all that is entailed with it."

"What is that you want from me? This is not an invitation nor a gift. What does your family want from me? What do you expect me to do in exchange for a life of luxuries?"

'Damn he is smart,' Bertram thought with satisfaction.

"We want your wizard's oath that you will live to restore the family name and honor if the eyes of the world. I know it won't be…"

" I refuse," Harry reply came without an hint of doubt or hesitation. To say that Bertram was dumbfounded would be an understatement. His mouth was still moving but no sound escaped his throat. After a good half minute wasted to regain his composure he addressed the boy again.

"You refuse?" Ue asked bewildered. _'Surely the simple improvement in his life condition should be enough to warrant at least some pondering. How can he turn down my proposal without even taking the time to think it over?'_

"Yes. Your offer as no interest for me as it is. However I have a counterproposal to make. In exchange for adopting me and my sister I will give one very specific Wizard's Oath,"

Bertram interest perked up at his word.

"Let's hear it then," the wizard prompted. Harry nudged his sister and rose from the bed, walking up to Bertram without removing his eyes from the other's.

"I'll swear that in exchange for your family name, both for myself and for my sister, I will live to rise to such greatness, that whatever smeared it in the first place will be nothing more than a secondary reference in history books."

Bertram was taken aback. The green eyed boy was not being cocky, he could see it his firm gaze. He honestly believed that he could and would manage to achieve such glory to overshadow everything else. For him taking their name and of course their wealth was just a step on his personal path. They weren't granting him an opportunity but the other way around. With or without them he would pursue his objectives both for himself and for his sister. Were it anybody else making such a statement he would call them a fool and send them running from whence they came.

However, as he stared into those Killing Curse green eyes, he knew that if anyone in the world had the sheer potential, resolve and motivation to actually live up to those words it was the boy in front of him.

Bertram laughed like he hadn't done in a long time, since before an healer told him that he couldn't become a father twenty years prior. It wasn't a laughter of mockery but one of honest amusement.

Harry wasn't bothered by it. He knew that the man wasn't laughing at him. Silently he waited for him to catch his breath without removing his gaze.

"Uh. Ah ah ah. I can tell already, watching you grow up is not going to be boring," Bertram stated sincerely

"So, do we have a deal, then?" Harry asked.

"We'll have to see it with my father, the current Head of House. However I cannot imagine him refusing a person with that kind of guts. I'll arrange a meeting with him. Just one question tough. Don't you want to know my family name before agreeing?"

Harry shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I will make the world remember my name one way or another. You just have to choose if you want me to drag you along for the ride or not."

Bertram chuckled in response. "Very well then. I'll make the necessary arrangements. For the time being, welcome to the Grindelwalds."

The last pleasant thought before he closed the door of the room was brought by the confident expression of the boy, that didn't even flinch at the mention of the name and the implied challenge in keeping up with his promise.

'_Fun times ahead. Fun times indeed.'_ Bertram thought as he walked to the Floo to contact his father. He couldn't wait to see the man's face once he'd tell exactly what happened with the boy.

* * *

Author Notes: Here's another chapter. Finally it's revealed Bertram family name. Who figured it out before I wrote it?

Like it? Dislike it? Make sure to let me know. Coming next a very long time skip. Harry's time with his new family will be narrated with flashback here and there.

I have been asked if this is going to be a Slash story. Short answer: Not for Harry. There are probably going to be characters that like their same gender but not the main character. Please remember that this is a very adult story although I have not yet decided if there are going to be explicit contents or not.

Till next time then. Bye.


	8. Back to Britain

**Chapter 7 – Back to Britain**

* * *

**Date: 1 September 1991 – Location: King Cross Station – Platform 9¾ **

Alex Potter walked through the barrier and stepped onto platform 9¾ quickly followed by the rest of his family. He was immediately stuck by the number of people gathered in the magical space between the muggle platforms. Wizard and witched of all ages and status where giving the last salutes to the children leaving for the fabled Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The blazing red color of the Hogwarts Express, with its steaming engine was humming quietly in the background; its sound almost drowned by the buzzing noise of the hundreds of voices speaking all together.

There was an atmosphere of great joy and expectation every year on the platform. However there was even more excitement in the air since the legendary Boy-Who-Lived would finally come back from his retirement from the public scene to attend school along his peers. The not so surprising news, since the boy was enrolled since the day of his birth, had been the topic of the summer in every social circle.

Since that fateful Halloween the Potters became a very private family who avoided public appearances as much as possible. Of course there were many instances where James couldn't avoid showing up in public, being the Head of House Potter and a member of the Wizengamot, but every time he avoided the press like a plague. For this reason Alex Potter first day of school was an even covered by all medias like the second coming of Merlin.

There were great expectations for the boy that had survived the Killing Curse and possibly vanquished the most feared Dark Wizard in recent history. In the eye of the public he had to be an Arch-Mage in the making, or something along those lines to be able perform such miracles at a young age.

Such was the idiocy of the Wizarding World.

Alex Potter was not immune to the pressure such expectation placed upon him, at it reflected on his face as he made the first step among the crowd. He was nervous, and not just a little scared. His childhood had kept him away from most interactions with his age group, save for a few family friends like the Weasley. Even if he had attended a few public events as the Scion of the Potters he still had issues with crowds. However he was the proud son of James Charlus Potter of Potter, and Heir apparent to the House of Gryffindor. There was no way he would let a few strangers intimidate him.

Perhaps reading his thoughts, James placed a reassuring hand on his son shoulder and nodded at him with a smile. Knowing that his father was there for him was all he needed to shake away the last strands of fear and step forward.

It didn't take long before the first persons recognized him. His face was very well known all over Britain and the rest of Europe. Eyes widened in surprise and heads turned in his direction. Conversation stopped abruptly or switched to him. With no little measure of rudeness some pointed him while the first year Muggleborn wondered exactly what had brought the sudden drop in the general noise.

"Oi! What do you lot have to stare?" Shouted an irate Peter Pettigrew, the long time friend of the Potters, in a typical expression of the Gryffindor courage and hot-headedness. "Mind your own bloody business."

While James laughed at his friend outburst Lily sighed. Honestly the when the two friend were together it was like being at Hogwarts all over again.

Alex smiled at his uncle. "Relax Wormtail. We already knew it was going to be like this. It can't be helped. I mean, I'm awesome. It was bound to happen." The eleven year old wizard said in mock arrogance.

"Har har. Don't let your ego grow any further Alex, or you won't be able to enter the Great Hall through the door anymore," Peter answered back.

"Yes, brother," Rose Potter interjected. "Who's going to hear mum rants if you get stuck in the door?"

"I'll just have my head shrunk eventually sis. No worries I've got it covered."

"Merlin help us all. We're doomed." They all laughed at the playful exchange. The picture of a perfect happy family. Only Lily Potter felt a little stinging sensation inside her chest. Without their Harry with them the picture was incomplete.

Actually, by an odd twist of fate, that missing piece appeared through the same barrier they came in from just moments before, dressed in fine clothing and carrying a trolley with a snow white owl perched on his shoulder. He disappeared among the crowd before any of the Potters could catch a glimpse of his figure missing by a mere fraction of second a set of green eyes so much like his own. That missed chance could have made a great difference in the following years, but no one, no one in the world would ever know.

* * *

The raven haired wizard made his way toward the Hogwarts Express without paying attention to anybody in particular, navigating through the crowd with as much grace as the situation permitted. It was beyond him why the Britons used such an antiquate mean of transportation when there were faster methods even among the muggles. He wasn't sure if it was to praise the inventiveness and ingenuity of their less gifted brothers, or if it was to spite how primitive they were. Either way he didn't like being pressed among so many people just to find a place to sit.

With no little difficulty he made his way on the train, looking for and finding an empty compartment to sit in. Actually most of the train was empty at that time, considering that most of the students were still on the platform saying goodbyes to their families. It worked just fine for the soon-to-be first year student, that managed to find a comfortable place near the window before anybody else.

From there he scanned the crowd searching and studying the people that would spend the following months with him. Unknown faces, unknown lives, save for a few that he had met at some social gathering his foster father Bertram made him attend. It didn't take much time to spot the neatly combed hair of the Malfoys with those blonde heads that could pass for white in the right reflection.

He saw a bushy haired girl looking around like she was lost, until an older student with a prefect badge told her what to do. No doubt a Muggle born. She was soon joined by a pudgy boy that he recognized as the Scion of the Longbottoms, another pureblood family. Actually one of the Ancient and Noble Houses of Britain, not like the Malfoys which status was gained through wisely invested money.

At last he saw a family of red head rushing to the barrier at the last minute. He didn't know them but judging from the clothes they wore, without the barest hint of muggle design, it was obvious that they were magical from head to toe. Pureblood, most definitely and not too wealthy by the look of them. The kind of people the Malfoys loved to lord over.

When the last student had climbed on the train a loud whistle announced the departure of the Hogwarts Express. Parents waved to their departing children for the last time until the winter holidays. A few of them where even crying. Soon enough the train picked up speed and the slow huffing turned into a fast paced one.

The first years made new acquaintances while the older rejoined their friends and housemates from the previous years, trading tales of the summer holidays . All in all there was a very cheerful atmosphere on the train, filled with curiosity and hopes for the coming year.

For a good half an hour the raven haired boy was left alone in one of the last compartments and he passed the time reading Hogwarts a history. An overall boring tome but filled with useful information about school rules, its history and a profile on the four founders. Nothing he hadn't already read something about, but it still was a good thing to know the environment where he was going to spent the best part of the next seven years. An heritage of his days as Scar, when knowing the whats and wheres was fundamental to survive. It was also something his adoptive family encouraged him to do.

He was soon interrupted by a the sound of a sliding door. The bushy haired muggle born witch that he saw earlier slammed the door open. She was surprised to see him there when the previous two compartments had probably been empty.

"Ah!" She exclaimed looking at his wary expression. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to barge in. I thought this compartment was empty," She explained. With a nod of his head he acknowledged her explanation, prompting her to go ahead. All the time his hand was ready to grab his wand that was holstered on his wrist. He was a little paranoid but that had kept him alive on many occasion so he never really tried not to be. "I've been looking for a toad. A boy named Neville lost it. Have you seen it?"

"No I haven't," he finally spoke. "Have you tried a summoning charm?"

The girl looked at him puzzled sitting down in front of him. "A… summoning charm? I've never heard of it and I think I've read most of this year's books on Charms. Is that advanced material?"

"Fourth year I think," was Harry dry reply. Her eyes widened in awe.

"Fourth year? Are you that much ahead with you reading?" She asked with clear admiration in her eyes. The boy looked at her like she had grown a second head before laughing softly. The girl expression darkened at that, something that the boy didn't miss.

"My apologies. I wasn't laughing at you. No I haven't read that far ahead. I've simply grew in a magical household. The summoning charm is quite useful to find lost belongings or simply to get things that are out of reach."

"Oh. I see," she replied. "Isn't magic supposed to be forbidden for minors outside of school?"

"Technically yes, however since the trace for underage magic is applied on wands and not on the wizard or witch, by using the wand of an adult you can perform magic without problems. Not that there would be any in the first place. That law was issued to prevent Muggleborns from performing magic in front of Muggles and violating the Statute of Secrecy. In an area heavily populated by magical folks the trace wouldn't even trigger. Too much magical interference."

"But.. but that atrociously unfair to Muggleborns," she almost shouted. The boy simply shrugged.

"Never said we live in a fair society, didn't I? It's quite the opposite in fact. You'll see it for youself."

"What do you mean?"

"You are Muggleborn, aren't you?" He asked. She simply nodded.

"You'll soon find out that the Magical World is mostly ruled by a class of Pureblood Supremacist that believes that Muggles and by extension Muggleborns are inferior creatures and as such they have less, in none, rights in our world." The girl paled at his quick explanation, seriously reconsidering her choice in life.

"But.. That's horrible. That's racism!"

"True. However this situation is somewhat brought to an equilibrium of sort by the fact that the Purebloods are a minority of the populace and, while they control most of the governments, the Wizarding world is by all means and purpose run by the Half-Bloods and the Muggleborns. Furthermore after Voldemort's fall most of his followers renounced his ideals in the eyes of the public. You shouldn't have any problem in finding a job later in life unless you are looking for a career in the Ministry. I don't think you'd manage to become anything more than an undersecretary to an undersecretary without some sort of 'sponsorship' from a Pureblood."

Being more mature than most girl her age she didn't need a clarification of that specific topic. She knew enough of the world to put the pieces together.

A long moment of silence passed between the two. The girl didn't exactly know what to say on that subject. Fortunately the boy managed to turn the discussion to more cheerful topics.

"So… Summoning Charm?" he proposed snapping the girl out of her flunk. She smiled and nodded, waiting for him to perform. He didn't do anything.

"Errr? Aren't you supposed to use your wand?"

"If I'd be casting the charm I would, but I won't. You will."

"Me?" She asked befuddled.

"Sure. I thought you wanted to learn it. Come on, draw your wand." She did as she was told and waited for instruction.

"What should I do now?"

"Raise your wand, open your free hand and be ready to catch what you are summoning. There is no movement to this charm, just the words. The incantation is _Accio_ followed by the name of what you want to summon. Go ahead and try."

"Accio Trevor," she shouted. Nothing happened. "Uh? Did I do something wrong?" The boy nodded.

"Yes, you did. You forgot the most important part. Magic isn't just about wand-waving and casting. They are just an help to focus you magic into doing something. You have to want something to happen for it happen. Will is the first ingredient to a successful spell. Try again."

"_Accio Trevor!"_ This time she felt something different. A spark from inside racing form her chest to her hand and through her wand. Two seconds later a flying toad zoomed into the compartment croaking madly, right into the hand of a brightly smiling witch.

"See? It's all about intention. Well done by the way," he said appreciatively.

"Thank you. Oh this is so awesome. Thank you so much. I love magic." Then after a moment of silence she looked at the toad. "I should bring this back to Neville. He's probably still looking for it." She stood up and run outside of the carriage. The boy just looked at her with an amused expression and a raised eyebrow. Five seconds later she came running back, her cheeks a little rosy from the embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I totally forgot my manners and I haven't introduced myself. I'm Hermione Jane Granger. Pleased to meet you."

The boy stood up from his seat and grabbed her outstretched, toad free, hand and kissed her knuckles as etiquette imposed. The tinge on her cheeks intensified a little.

"Herwald Gerard Gridelwald of Grindewald, at your service Miss Granger."

* * *

**Date: 1 September 1991 – Location: Hogwarts Express Platform at Hogwarts **

The train arrived at its destination as the sun was slipping below the horizon. The students gathered on the platform, leaving their belongings on the train, to be moved by the Elves to their dorms once the sorting was complete. Hermione and Herwald didn't spend any time together after their first meeting, however she waved at him when their eyes met on the platform. She was with one of those redhead he saw at King Cross and with another face he immediately recognized. Alex Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the vanquisher of Voldemort. In Herwald opinion a boy saved by a magical fluke. Not having met him before, he didn't have any particular opinion about him and postpone any evaluation until he would talk to him in person. Much like he did with anybody else.

"Firs' year, this way," shouted a huge man in a mauled English . The man was way too big to be completely human. Perhaps he had some giant blood in his ancestry, and not too far back if his size was any indication. Herwald had still to understand how Half-giants came into existence seeing that the difference in body proportion made reproduction outside of their race quite… complex. Ah well, magic had its ways, after all.

He followed the giant with the rest of the First year students down to the lake, where they climbed on boats in groups of no more than four each. When the last student had sat down the boats started to move in the direction of the castle. The sight was breathtaking. The ancient structure stood proudly against the evening sky, its light reflecting on the lake. Even Herwald, in his apparent detachment, thought that it was an awesome sight.

"So what house do you think you will be in Greengrass?" asked a black skinned boy to a blonde girl seated beside him and right in front of Herwald. The girl face was emotionless mask, much like Herwald's when acting as the Scion of the Grindelwalds.

"Slytherin I suppose, although I have no qualms with Ravenclaw. What about you Zabini?" The girl asked back.

"Father would skin me if I were to be sorted anywhere but Slytherin," was his dry answer. "What about you Davis?" He asked the brunette girl sitting on Herwald's left side.

"I don't actually care. This whole house system sounds completely useless to me. However, knowing myself as I do, I think I'll be sorted in Slytherin as well," she explained. Them they all turned to Herwald, who was silently listening to their exchange. "What about you Mr….?" The girl asked him.

"Grindelwald," he said shortly and without emphasis. The reaction at his name varied. Zabini tilted his head in a contemplative manner, while Greengrass only sign of interest was an elegantly arched eyebrow. Davis's reaction was the most obvious as her eyes widened. "… And I have no idea where I'll be sorted, Miss Davis. However if anything I've heard so far about houses is true I'd prefer to avoid Slytherin and Gryffindor altogether," he continued.

"Why is that, Mr. Grindelwald?" Asked Zabini.

"They seem to be at war with each other, I've heard, to the point where playing pranks and hexing members of the opposite house is a common occurrence. I would rather avoid having to watch my back every time I walk to alone in the corridors. Wouldn't you agree Mr. Zabini?"

The boy laughed as he shook hands with him.

"Quite, but I don't have the luxury of choosing. Nobody does, actually. The Sorting Hat chooses our respective houses based on our predominant traits. Cunning and ambition for Slytherin, loyalty and hard work for Hufflepuff, Intelligence and knowledge for Ravenclaw, courage and stubbornness for Gryffindor."

"That's so? How very disappointing."

"Why is that?" Asked Davis after finding her voice again.

"It means that for most of our time here we will be with people that are much too similar to us. It dampers our growth by restricting interaction with different kind of people. I'm not surprised by the animosity between the House of Snakes and the House of Lions. They are the antithesis of each other."

"I see," Greengrass finally spoke. "I have never thought of it like that. Perhaps your evaluation on the Houses is correct Mr. Grindelwald."

"Perhaps," was his last word before the boats finally docked. The huge man, Hagrid was his name, led them, up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door. He raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the cas tle door.

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid."Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

They were showed into a small room from where they could hear the buzzing of hundred of voices, probably from the other students that arrived from another and faster way.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hog warts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.

Herwald frowned at the explanation. He understood the concept of House points more than the others. The number of points gained or lost didn't have any impact on a student curriculum outside Hogwarts. It was simply as system to enforce discipline through peer pressure. A good way to keep the sheep in line. Definitely not something he would concern himself with. He went to Hogwarts to learn and further his studies in a country were the war started by his great-uncle didn't reach too much and where his family had a few important business to take care of. A good place to start the restoration of his family name. Most certainly he wasn't there to start trouble and being more mature, and aware of it, he would avoid the childish antics most of his peers would engage in.

Then something happened and several people behind him screamed.

About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance —"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he de serves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old House, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

The Great Hall was lit by thousands of floating candles, hovering over four long tables were the students were sitting. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. Herwald looked up ward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History._" A nice Charm work that was yet to be replicated anywhere else. Not that anybody really tried of course.

Professor McGonagall silently placed a stool in front of the first years and then placed a pointed wizard that looked like it had missed a century of trips to the laundry.

Then the hat twitched slightly. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth and it began to sing an horrid song.

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid_!

_And don't get in a flap_!

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap_!"

The hall burst into applause and the hat bowed to each table. Then the sorting began.

Reading form a long parchment Professor McGonagall started calling the first year students in alphabetical order, beginning with Hanna Abbot, Susan Bones and so on. Herwald paid attention to every face and every name, memorizing them for later use. It finally Hermione's turn and much to her and Herwald surprise she was sorted in Gryffindor, the House of the braves instead of Ravenclaw. By estimation the boy knew that his name would be called soon after Hermione's and he prepared himself to step forward. Greengrass, Daphne as he learned at that very moment, was called before him and sorted into Slytherin.

McGonagall eyes scrolled down the parchment until they met something and her expression tuned to a scowl, the first sign of the task ahead if him.

"Grindelwald, Herwald" she called. He walked to the stool with the Professor eyes boring hole into his head. A low murmur rose from the older students who knew the origin of his name.

'Here we go, the usual Dark Wizard charade,' he thought fully aware of the reputation of his family. Not that it bothered him by then. After almost five years spent with that name he was used to be the object of scorn and hate.

He sat on the stool and the professor showed the hat on his head with no gentleness. _'Just great, my professor hates me and it's not even the first day of lesson.'_

_GONG!_

A loud sound echoed _into_ his head and he flinched involuntary. _'What the hell?'_

'_Well I'll be damned' _ the Hat's voice echoed into his head. _'Occlumency shields at your age? My, my. I didn't meet an Occlumen so young in at least twenty years, it show much promise, young Herwald. Now would you please lower them and let me proceed with the Sorting?'_

'_And let a powerful sentient magical artifact rummage through my memories and thoughts? Not bloody likely. I'd rather keep the contents of my head to myself, thank you very much.' _Herwald retorted.

'_Paranoid much? I'll let you know that I'm oath-bound not to reveal anything I see inside your mind. Now can we please continue and let you join you fellow students?'_

'_How can an artifact being bound by an oath? It requires a soul to…. Oh. Well isn't this interesting? You are not an artifact at all. Who are you really?'_

"…_Dang! I can't believe I've slipped like that and I've been bust by a first year. This is so embarrassing. Tell you what Mr. Grindelwald, fancy making a deal with me?"_

"_State your terms," _Herwald prompted the hat.

'_I'll sort you in the house you prefer in exchange for your silence. What do you say?"_

'_Are you kidding me old rag? I've just learned this very juicy tidbit of information and you expect me to trade it for something that is your job doing anyway? I'm eleven, ,not stupid," _the boy retorted.

'…_I'll oughta sort you into Slytherin and be done with it, you troublesome boy.' _The hat replied snappishly but amused.

'_Sure, why not? I've just found a nice topic to discuss with them.'_

'_Fine, what do you want, blackmailer?'_

'_Your name. Oh and you will sort me into Ravenclaw.'_

'_Names are powerful things young Herwald. I want your oath that you won't divulge it without my permission. We are inside your mind so the wording is not needed. Do you agree?'_

'_Agreed.'_

The silent exchange went on for quite some time and the crowd in the hall began murmuring on the strange event. When Herwald gave his oath his body shone with the light associated to it. The staff and the older students couldn't help but wonder what exactly the boy had promised to the sentient hat. The murmuring intensified at his strange behavior and at the stranger situation.

'_Very well. You might call me Godric.'_ Herwald eyebrow rose from under the hat.

'_Very interesting Mr. Godric. It doesn't even require a brain to make a connection with the founder that goes by the same name. I won't inquire any further for the time being. You wouldn't answer me anyway. Now, what about the last part of our deal?'_

'_Right. Tell me one thing before I send you the with the claws… why don't you want to be sorted with the Slytherins or the Gryffindors? I might not be able to read your mind but it's quite clear that you are ambitious, maybe even too much for your own good, and you have courage to spare if you have the guts to make a strike a bargain with me. I'm not saying that Ravenclaw isn't good for you, but why there?' _The hat inquired.

'_With the name I carry I will have enough trouble as it is without joining the house renown for harboring Dark Wizards and Dark Lords. I'm going to be a pariah in Ravenclaw as it is, I don't need to be ostracized by the whole school for being a Slytherin. Besides I don't need to be with the snakes to associate with them.'_

'_Hm. While I can't disagree with that, you will certainly see that by joining them you'll have the chance to befriend the children of some of the most influential families in Britain. Wouldn't it help greatly to achieve whatever is your ambition?'_ The hat asked back.

'_Do you see what happens when your hobby is rummaging through children's heads? You have become too much naïve,'_ Herwald answered smugly.

'_What do you mean?'_

'_Sigh, for someone that wishes to pass for a millennia old artifact you are a tad slow, aren't ya? What is the first requirement to be a good Chess master, Godric?'_

'_Why won't you tell me, you smartass?' _

'_Tch, tch. Language, Godric. Ah well I shall indulge you for the sake of our newly established friendship,' _the hat snorted at that clearly amused_. 'The first requirement to be a Chess master is not being a part of the chessboard.'_

The low murmur of the student was suddenly broken by the loud laughter of the ragged hat. For a long minute everybody, students, professors and ghost alike were stunned into silence at the unheard display. Not even the old Headmaster, that was already too surprised by the presence of a Grindelwald in his own school, knew what to think of it.

"AH AH AH AH AH! Very well Mr. Grindelwald," he spoke for everyone to hear. "I shall look forward to your endeavors in RAVENCLAW! If you have time and with the headmaster permission come to visit me. I didn't have such an interesting conversation in decades."

Five minutes after the hat was placed on his head Herwald stood up, passed Godric to a stunned Professor McGonagall, bowed to the hat, and strolled to the Ravenclaw table, where he was greeted by a short applause and by a gap in space between him and the next student sat at the table.

The sorting resumed and Herwald scanned the crowd for reactions. The Slytherin seemed to be pondering him, which was not surprising. He didn't expect to be shunned by them for being a supposed dark wizard, seeing that they carried the same reputation just by being sorted in the House of Cunning. As stated above the Ravenclaws where keeping their distances from him, clearly showing that his greatest ordeal would be befriending his own housemates. The Hufflepuffs kept to themselves mostly but look at him warily. A few older students were chatting animatedly with the first year Muggleborns pointing at him, clearly explaining his heritage and how they should avoid the Scion of a Dark Lord.

The morons.

His eyes finally wandered to the table of the Lions where the scene was pretty much the same but with a lot more glares in his direction. Ah, the brave Paladins of the Light couldn't stand the thought of a Dark Lord in the making such as him. More probably then not they were already wondering what kind of blackmail he had recurred to be sorted with the Claws instead then with the filthy snakes he belonged with. Not that they were wrong. He did black mail the Sorting Hat into placing him in Ravenclaw after all.

His eyes finally met Hermione Granger. An older student was whispering something into her hear, pointing at him, undoubtedly spewing the same venom as the other. She turned in his direction and their eyes met again for a long excruciating second.

Then she smiled at him and just shrugged, shaking her head as if to dispose of those silly things they had just told her about him.

Herwald smiled back feeling a satisfaction he didn't expect at her acceptance.

'_One step at a time, one friend at a time' _he thought bowing his head in her direction, before returning to watch the sorting.

Everything proceed smoothly until 'Potter, Alex," was called for the sorting. Once again every conversation was turned to a low murmur.

"Alex Potter?" someone asked.

"_The_ Alex Potter?"

'_Ah Yes, the Boy-Who-Lived. If anybody was bound to cause a commotion beside me it was him,_' Herwald mused. Magical fluke or not Alex Potter name was associated with the downfall of Voldermort, and with it the end of a long war that took many lives in Britain, more than the Grindewalds war ever did. It was a war that interest the continent mostly and almost never reached the shores of Magical Britain.

Once again this sorting took more time than usually needed and Herwald idly wondered if the new Scion of the Light wasn't exactly as pure as everybody thought. However, every doubt that the audience was harboring was quickly dispelled by a shout of "GRYFFINDOR!" form the Sorting Hat.

The Boy-Who-Lived quickly joined his new housemates accompanied by a thunderous applause from everybody but the Slytherins. Well the last part was true for every Gryffindor sorted up to that point so it had to be an issue between Houses. It didn't worry Herwald too much, seeing that he had chosen to be sorted away from those two Houses for that very reason.

"We got Potter! We got Potter!" The red head twins from the Platform shouted. _'Honestly, what is all this commotion about? People need to put things in perspective. He's just another Wizard," _Herwald thought. However when he looked over to the Gryffindor table again his eyes locked with the all too popular boy and then he saw. They both saw.

Neither of them was just another wizard. Not just any eleven year old boy had that kind of light in his eyes. The light of determination, the light of a purpose. They looked at each other for a very long moment before they both nodded at each other.

Neither of them knew what had forged the other into a man in a boy's skin but both of them knew that if they ever crossed each other things would get messy. Not one ounce of doubt on it. Not one bit.

The sorting continued with Malfoy being placed with the Slytherins, a "Weasley, Ronald" in Gryffindor and proceeded all the way to "Zabini, Blasie" another student for the house of snakes.

With every student finally seated the Headmaster rose to his feet and addressed the crowd.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Be fore we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" And he sat back down. Everybody clapped at the odd Wizard. Someone wondered a tad too loudly if he was mad, but Herwald knew better than judge a book by its cover. Albus Dumbledore was a powerful wizard not to be underestimated. Not only he was powerful, but he was also extremely intelligent and with over a century of experience on his back.

Suddenly food appeared on the tables and everybody stated eating with gusto. Herwald was left on his own, which suited him just fine. He preferred to pick his friends and allies after knowing them a little rather than taking whomever life threw at him.

When everybody was finally finished Dumbledore rose to his feet again. "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

Everybody started singing at a different pace, much to the young wizard charging. Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

They followed their prefects to their respective houses, where they quickly went to sleep after the long tiring day.

* * *

There goes another chapter. This was kind hard to write. What happened from the last chapter to this. You'll find out sometime later for sure.

Probably.

Maybe.

… Never mind.

Now let me know what you think of this chapter and the plot so far. I'm looking forward to your reviews.

On a more technical note I'm looking for a beta and for a time table of canon events. Anybody knows where I could find one?


	9. Reminescences

**Chapter 8 - Reminiscences**

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**Hogwarts: Headmaster office – Date: 1 September 1991 (23:12)**

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office at Hogwarts, sipping from a glass filled with '_Little man's Hammer', _ the finest liquor the dwarves ever produced. It was the one and only luxury the powerful wizard ever allowed himself despite his wealth and fame. Being a humble man that enjoyed the simplest pleasures of life he did have very little interest in the things money could buy.

No he enjoyed much more things like a book, a warm pairs of socks and some good companionship. He was by all mean the epitome of virtue, or at least he tried to be. However, like those who had lived more than a few years, he knew that good intentions often paved the road to hell.

Albus Dumbledore had walked up and down that road more times that he cared to remember and yet, as he stared at his reflection on the glass, he couldn't help but let his memories wander back to the past.

* * *

**Hogwarts: Headmaster Office – Date: 1 July 1991 (10:38)**

"Albus!" Minerva McGonagall stormed the headmaster office with a large tome under her arm. The look on her face was that of a Muggle who had just seen a ghost. Dumbledore rose his head from the mountain of papers he was reading to look at his long time friend. A flustered McGonagall was a sight that rarely graced those halls. Furthermore there were no students inside the castle during the summer. He couldn't honestly imagine what emergency could possibly upset the Transfiguration professor to the point of forgoing knocking before entering. It was so unlike her.

"Minerva. Calm down please. What got you so worked up?"

Minerva McGonagall response was slamming the heavy book on the desk, sending paper, quills and ink bottles flying away. Albus barely had time to remove his hands before the offending surface could squash them under its weight. The Scottish professor was out of breath and simply collapsed into the chair in front of the Headmaster. Patiently he let her catch her breath before inquiring any further.

"Albus.. the Book of Names…" the woman spoke between breaths.

"What's wrong with it?" the Headmaster asked looking at the humongous tome warily. The book was old as the castle and it was used to record the names of every student enrolled since birth. It was a relic from the founders precious beyond imagination. The magic behind it was so complex, and so deeply tied with the original wards, that it would be impossible to replicate without taking down the school and rebuilding it. It was for all means and purpose integral part of Hogwarts and its magic.

"I was…," she stammered, "I retrieved the book waiting for the names to appear, to send out the acceptance letters for the next years when… I wanted to sent Alex's letter myself instead of letting the House Elves do all the paperwork as usual…"

"Minerva, please calm down. Is there something wrong with young Alex name?" Albus asked with his grandfatherly voice. The book showed up the names two months before the beginning of the school years, without fail. The only cases in which the name didn't show up was if the child didn't have enough magic to be enrolled or if the child was dead before the name showed up. Alex Potter was no squib and last time he heard he was alive and well. Could something have happened to the Chosen One without him knowing? The idea was preposterous.

Without waiting for her to answer he opened the book with a wave of his hand. The pages flew to the Potters name in a mere second and Albus was more that relieved to see 'Potter, Alex' written there. He had barely a moment to enjoy his relief before his gaze slipped downward and his breath was caught in his throat.

'_Potter, Harry'._

A cold freezing sensation crept up his spine igniting hundreds of thoughts in the wizard mind. Was the boy still alive? How could it be? Where was he all this time. What did it meant for the prophecy?

Then he looked at the name for a second time, then a third. There was something different with that name. The letters were blurry and the ink seemed to drip at the corner. The magic of the book was tied to the magic of the children. If something was wrong with the child's magic then the name on the book could reflect it. Albus let a relieved sigh escape his lungs when is mind finally elaborated something that actually made sense even if he couldn't avoid a pang of guilt knowing that Harry's death was one of the pillars of his interpretation of the prophecy.

"Albus… is Harry still alive?" Minerva asked torn between scared and hopeful. The war had brought her and the Potters close. Harry's death had struck her almost as badly as Lily.

"I don't think so, Minerva," Albus said with a tinge of sadness in his voice. "I believe that Harry's magic that protected his brother that fateful night still lives through him. The book perceive it and reports the name of the owner. Nothing more than that. See how the name is barely legible and the ink seems to drip at the corner. It's a sign that Harry is not quite in this world anymore. A fragment of his magic is all that's left."

"I… I see… For a moment I had hoped…" Minerva let a tear escape her eye. She should have known better than to believe in miracle.

"I know, Minerva. For I moment even I dared to hope that an innocent boy was still among us. We should not speak of this anymore. Don't tell anything to the Potters it would only serve to upset them and reopen old wounds."

"Of course Albus. I shall return to my duties, now. Sorry if I have bothered you."

"That's quite all right," he dismissed. "You never bother me, old friend."

A sharp nod was her response before she left the room with her composure restored even if her eyes were still moist from unshed tears.

Everything was back in order but Albus couldn't wipe the doubt from his mind until a month later, after the sorting ceremony, when Harry's name resulted 'SORTED' but they boy didn't show up at all. After that moment he put the whole incident behind him as one of the many magical flukes he had witnessed through his long life. However things were quite far from being quiet for the Headmaster.

* * *

**Hogwarts: Headmaster Office – Date: 6 July 1991 (9:45)**

Not even a week letter a person required to see Albus. A person whose name he couldn't ignore or dismiss as _just business_. Gerard Grindelwald, younger brother of Gellert Grindelwald, Albus dark nemesis. Albus friend. Albus co-conspirator Albus first love.

Another pang of guilt stabbed his chest. Far too many unhappy thoughts were tied to the memory of the blond haired wizard that shared the vision of a _Greater Good_ with the now repentant Headmaster. And now his brother wanted to meet him. Why? Why after so many years? Why now after they refused all his letters? Why when no one of them even showed up at Gellert's trial? What could he possibly want after almost fifty year?

He was snapped out of his musing by a knock on the door. Time for conjectures flew out of the door when his mouth opened to invite his guest in.

The foreigner wizard steppes inside his office bringing a chill along with him. The man looked extremely old despite the still blonde hair. He resembled Gellert very much if he wasn't just so worn. His face was unnaturally pale and he helped himself to walk with the use of a cane.

"Good morning, Mr. Dumbledore. Thank you for receiving me with such short notice. I know that a person of your caliber must have many other commitments. I won't take more than needed."

"It's all right Mr. Grindelwald," Albus said shaking his guest's hand. "I confess that your request to meet me left me quite surprised. You are pretty influential as the Head of one of the Ancient and Noble Houses of Germany. What is that I can do for you that you cannot do for yourself?"

"You are right Mr. Dumbledore. Out there our heritage and our wealth grant us many shortcuts, however I didn't require to speak with you as the Supreme Mugwup or the Chief Warlock. I came to look for you as the Headmaster of Hogwarts."

Albus eyebrows reached his hairline. "I wasn't aware you had an heir of age to attend school."

"My grandson is the unexpected result of an illicit relationship between my son and a Muggleborn witch. Until five years ago we didn't even know he was born. His misguided mother escaped while pregnant, probably believing one of those rumors that picture my family as blood purist. She died of childbirth and the boy grew in poverty without knowing his heritage. It was just thanks to a miracle that his father met him and recognized his mother features on the boy. The blood test confirmed my son as his father and he was brought back within our folds. We didn't exactly advertise the event. The gods only know what sorts of rumors the media would come up with."

"So you want to enroll him at Hogwarts. Can I ask you why? Durmstrang is a very fine institution and is within Floo reach whereas Hogwarts would require an international portkey."

"There is too much animosity against us in the continent. Bertram had to be home schooled after his first year because he was the target of every student that had lost a relative in the war my foolish brother started, and now those students have become teachers, politicians, businessman, solicitors. Bertram grew up with it and knows how to handle it but Herwald suffered a difficult childhood already. I don't want to put him through the same ordeal as his father. England wasn't touched by my brother's war and most animosity has shifted to your most recent Dark Lord. "

"So you intend to let him grow away from the hate and scorn he would suffer in his homeland until he's old and strong enough to stand on his own. I understand and I accept. No children should suffer the mistakes of his father, or great-uncle in this case. Have the proper documents filled by next week and I will…," Albus was cut off by a stack of paper unshrinking on his desk.

"They are already done and signed by every member of the Board of Governors," Gerard said with a grin on his face.

"So you already had approval from the government. Why did you even bother coming all the way here?" Albus asked while checking the documents for any possible mistake. He found none.

"Manners Mr. Dumbledore. For all I knew you like many other might have despised us for our name. I wouldn't entrust my grandson to a biased man in a position of power."

"You came to test me. I would have done the same in your place. Well, everything seems to be in order here. I'll be expecting the Scion of Grindelwald on the first day of September," Albus stood up and shook the man hand again.

"Thank you. I have great expectation from Herwald and I'm sure your fine institution can help him achieve his goals. I entrust him to you," Gerard said sincerely.

Albus was surprised by the complete lack of malice in the conversation. He had expected to be held responsible for the misfortune that befell Gerard family but it seemed that the man didn't hold any grudge against him. After over forty years a small weight was removed from his shoulder. Just a tiny little weight but Albus stood a little straighter as their hands met.

"I will see that Hogwarts keeps up to your expectations as long as young Herwald keeps up with his duties as a student," he said amiably.

"No need to worry about that, Mr. Dumbledore. Young Herwald ambition and desire to prove himself is only surpassed by his thirst to learn. The boy as a thing for history and potions. A true scholar if I have ever seen one. He will do just fine, I'm certain."

"Wonderful. I look forward to meet this brilliant mind. There are never enough students willing to challenge themselves academically. Ravenclaw is the house with lower number student through all the history of Hogwarts."

They chatted a little more, comparing Hogwarts curriculum with Durmstrang's all the while Albus kept thinking just how much the man seated in front of him knew of his relationship with is brother. Was there any resentment toward the headmaster for stopping and later imprisoning the elder brother? Nothing in his guest voice or posture gave away any form of hatred but the seeds of guilt and remorse had too many years at their disposal to plant their roots and grow strong. A pleasant conversation couldn't make up for years of self-berating but maybe, just maybe, providing young Herwald an environment away from unjustified hatred could be his chance to find a measure of comfort and closure to his youth's mistake.

Gerard left half an hour later after a strong glass of _Little man's Hammer_ and a firm handshake, both wizards relieved that things went smoothly despite the likelihood of the opposite. Neither of them knew exactly what they had put in motion for the future of British Wizarding World and Magical Europe in general.

* * *

**Hogwarts: Headmaster office – Date: 1 September 1991 (23:30)**

Albus finished his whiskey with one last gulp, setting the empty glass aside on his desk and returning to his paperwork. Being the Headmaster had its share of responsibilities to uphold and in conjunction with his others roles in the Wizarding Government he had his hands full basically everyday of the year.

Well if anything good came out if it, the heavy workload kept his mind away from unsavory thoughts and memories like nothing else ever could.

* * *

**Hogwarts: Ravenclaw Tower : Date 2 September 1991 (5:30)**

Herwald opened his eyes in his new bed in the Ravenclaw tower, passing from asleep to awake in the time it took for his eyelids to blink once. He was used to be up early this early since he was five years old, but since he had learned Occlumency waking up became much more easier. Even the nightmares didn't affect him as much as they used to do. Especially not after the incident at Luther's mansion.

Pushing himself up he pulled the covers away and slid outside of his bed. He was used not to waste time and he had a number of things to do that he was too tired to do the previous night.

He washed his face, savoring the chilling sensation on his skin. When his head rose from the sink his eyes met his reflection. Emerald green orbs traced followed the outline of his reflected visage from his scarred forehead to his chin. The young wizard couldn't help but wonder exactly how the Blood Adoption affected him.

He knew that undergoing the ritual before hitting puberty would alter his appearance as he grew up, thus giving him some of the traits of his adoptive family and he was totally fine with it, but sometimes he couldn't help but wonder how would he have looked like if he grew up normally.

For what he could remember, not that he wasted anytime looking at himself in the mirro in the past few years his face had thinned considerably, gaining eagle-like check traits typical of the Gindelwalds if somewhat smothered by his still lingering baby fat. Of course he was still eleven and growing thus the likelihood of more changes was high but he hoped that his eyes wouldn't change. He liked that particular shade, many adults in his father's business circle told him it was… hypnotizing. A few younger kids he had met were even scared of him… although that could be easily be blamed on his family bad rep. He wouldn't have been surprised if Europen witches actually used the Grindewalds as bogeymen in bedtime stories for their children.

Herwald didn't exactly dislike being feared on principle. It kept small time troublemakers and generally irksome people away while it draw in most intriguing characters. That and crusader, avengers and Dark Lords wannabe that believed that wiping the leftover Grindelwald was a good way to begin a career. In five years Herwald was the object of ten attempted kidnapping. Not one, not two: TEN.

It was somewhat bothersome since he had to keep watching his back even after joining hid new family but on the other hand it gave him an excuse to legally carry a second wand, beside the Yew wand he had since he was a child, and practice magic before being enrolled into any magic school. All perks in the young man mind; still a life of danger, but hey, no more hunting for food. It was much more easier to deal with life threatening situations with a full belly.

Shaking the what ifs out of his head he finished and changed into his workout clothes. After he was adopted he no longer needed to be physically fit since he didn't have to hunt for food or to outrun a predator, however his tactical mind didn't want to lose any of the advantages his difficult childhood bestowed upon him, so he kept himself in shape. He was no athlete by any stretch of the imagination but compared to any other magical child his age he was leaps and bounds ahead in that department if only due to a lack of any form of sport activity in the wizarding world barring Quidditch, which didn't actually do any good to the physique outside of the professional league, where the training included a complete exercise regimen for all the muscles in the body.

He left the dorms and walked backwards on the path he walked up the previous evening until he reached the main entrance. The doors opened by themselves as he approached, being charmed to let students come and go as they pleased from six in the morning until nine in the evening.

He began running at a slow pace to warm up his legs while he thought of his childhood up to that point. The first years living with the old hag were difficult and even traumatic especially after that night at Luther's. Even now his Occlumency, developed with the purpose of keeping the nightmares at bay on top of shielding his family secrets, couldn't completely protect him from the emotional scar he had gained in that occasion. He still shied away from touch except from his sister Leda. It took Bertram almost four years to establish enough trust with Herwald to be able to touch him in a fatherly manner without the boy flinching. In the end they eventually managed become akin to a family despite the business like reason that had brought them under the same name, however they were rather like sibling instead of a father and son. It couldn't be helped after all; Herwald looked up to his 'grandfather' Gerard as a father figure more than he could ever do with Bertram. It was no wonder since they were tied by the Blood Adoption ritual that tied their magic together and the part the elder Wizard played in the younger's upbringing.

Gerard had taught Herwald everything from wizarding etiquette to pureblood politics and goblin economy. He didn't teach him a single spell but he had high expectation for his newly acquire grandson nonetheless. Not that Herwald ever gave him reason to be disappointed with his results; quite the opposite in fact. His mind was like as sponge that absorbed every notion, every concept, every subtle interaction between a party and another in a political exchange or business deal. He was highly dedicated and had very little interests in childish activities, another heritage of his early childhood that left very little time for games. Gerard couldn't be more happier for Bertram choice in heir and began to reciprocate the boy unspoken affection in the same manner: silently.

The only time Herwald allowed himself to ease up was with his sister Leda or when he learned spells with Bertram.

Leda. The simple thought of his blonde sister was enough to dispel any dark thought and any doubt he could have had on his choice of life. The girl shone like the sun in his mind, and every time he saw her smiling he felt like every effort he did to keep up with his oath to the Grindelwalds was more than repaired already. Not that she was any less than him with her own efforts.

In the end they all agreed that taking the Grindelwald name would have been a useless endangerment for her and thus she didn't formally join Herwald's family. She was instead adopted by Gerard sister-in-law from France and took the last name of Audibert, but they still lived under the same roof since Leda foster mother Francine moved in with them after her sister died ten years prior. They were cousins in the eye of the law but they didn't care at all as long as they could be together.

And that's where the downside of attending Hogwarts came. Being her sister two years younger she couldn't join him until he was in his third year making it possible to see each other only during Yule break or the summer holidays. It royally sucked for the young siblings but sacrifices had to be made and they both knew it beforehand. However that brought even more closeness in the last weeks in Germany before his departure. It was going to be the longest time apart from each other since the day they met and neither of them looked forward to that. They ended up sleeping in the same bed every night for the previous five weeks in order to ne together as much as they could, but that made only more difficult when he took his portkey to London. Leda tear streaked face was his last memory of her before the hook behind the navel whisked him away from her. He started missing her as soon as his feet touched the soil of Britain a moment later.

Herwald stopped his feet and returned to the real world from his memories when he completed a run around the castle. The perimeter of the school wasn't that long but it wasn't possible to run flaking the walls all the time since the uneven terrain made some tracts akin to climbing rather than running, forcing the boy to take a longer path around it. It took him around forty minutes at a normal speed to complete his lap but the variegating inclination of the ground made up for a fine physical exercise. Satisfied with his efforts Herwald took the time to obverse and appreciate the scenario. A fine silvery mist was rising hovering over the ground and the lake prompted by the morning sun. He definitely couldn't question the founders choice and tastes for the location of their school and he secretly wished that he could show his sister that magnificent show of nature. He couldn't for at least two years but that couldn't prevent him to write her a very detailed letter like he promised her before leaving her behind to pursue his magical education. With that objective in mind he returned inside not noticing the sad looking headmaster disillusioning himself after the great doors closed behind him.

* * *

_Dear Leda,_

_I cannot express how much I miss you after only one day of absence from home. I wish you could be here with me, but you know that already without me telling you. Hogwarts is a magnificent place, perhaps the most beautiful I ever seen since ever but it lacks what I need to call it home. You know what I mean, I'm certain. I can't wait to see you again over the holidays and tell you everything I'll learn from now to that day._

_The castle is enormous and the grounds around it are much more so. The sight is breathtaking both at sunrise and sunset. I don't have the words to describe the show of the castle's lights reflecting on the lake at night or the sun shimmering over the mist in the morning. You have to see it for yourself to understand its beauty._

_I have been sorted into Ravenclaw, the house of the smart and studious. Not that much of a surprise I suppose, but I had to blackmail the Sorting Hat- don't ask – to be sure not to end up in Slytherin. Not that I have anything against the Snakes but, as I have discussed both with my father and grandfather before leaving, being sorted there would have gained me the animosity and opposition I would have had back in our homeland and would have made coming all this far from you a moot point. I could have been sorted into Gryffindor had I wanted to but that wouldn't have been much better, not only due to that ridiculous House feud further incited by the Points system and the Quidditch Cup, but it would also put me in the center of the attention of my housemates. I have enough attention as it is being myself without getting myself sorted among the people that dislike me on principle. There is no doubt in my mind that I would have been the subject of every bully in there, and that would have been ugly. For them of course, but it would have been ugly nonetheless, and I don't think that putting any of my housemates it the hospital wing the first day would have endeared me any appreciation for the rest of the students. Or the professors for that matter. _

_I saw Dumbledore at the welcoming feast. He looked and talked like he was a tad barmy but I know better The Headmaster radiated a quiet power through all the evening even though I was probably the only one to notice among the students. _

_And speaking of students I've met a muggleborn witch on the Hogwarts Express, her name's Hermiome. She seems shy and somewhat bookwormish – I'm one to talk – but an interesting person nonetheless. She didn't seem bothered by my name but that might be because she got to know me a little before learning of our family history so I'm not sure if this simple acquaintance is going to become a friendship. Hanging out with me could cause her to be cast away from the other students in he house, which is Gryffindor by the way. Maybe I'm being prejudiced by saying so, but I think that being a very studious person in the house of those known for acting instead of thinking. I'll wait and see how see will react to the peer pressure before making any judgment. I don't want to go through the hassle of making friends with her if she's just going to turn her back on me when things get difficult._

_Another student of notice is Alex Potter, another Gryffindor by the way. He is nothing like I have imagined it and I'm a little ashamed of thinking that he was some brat spoiled by his own fame. I haven't had the chance to talk with him yet but his eyes seemed resolute and without arrogance. I think he might turn out to be quite a challenge in DaDA if his Auror father taught him some of his tricks. I'm looking forward to see what he can do._

_Now I'm going to have a nice breakfast. The morning run – yes I'm not quitting anytime soon – always works me up a nice appetite. _

_I think I have overheard an older student yesterday evening speaking with a prefect about showing the first years the way to the dungeons. I know for certain that the potions lab is somewhere down there and I hope that my first lesson will be just that. Did you know that England's most famous Master Potioneer actually teaches here at Hogwarts? That's right, Sis. Severus Snape is going to teach me potion this year. I can't wait to see this genius at work._

_That's all for now. I'm going to write again tomorrow morning and every other morning if my schedule permits me (if not I'll just get up earlier). _

_Make sure not to slack off in my absence. Just kidding I know you won't. You are driven as much as I am. I really have to go now._

_Love,_

_Herwald._

The boy sealed the letter and sent it with his newly bought owl Hedwig. An oddly interesting owl in Herwald opining. Far more intelligent and receptive than any other of his kind the young wizard ever had the chance to see. He was interested in studying the bird further to see if it had a stronger magic than others. He had his own theories on post owl he intended to verify, but it was still too an advanced subject for him since Care of Magical Creatures wasn't a course he could begin until his third year. He had other more pressing subject he wanted to learn about before that one.

He left the Owlry wondering on the coming first day of lesson, hoping that the level of teaching was actually superior to his own private reading. Hogwarts was renowned for being the best magical school in Europe, wasn't it? Well it was all a matter of waiting and seeing. With that in mind he went in search to his well deserved first meal of the day.

* * *

**Author Notes**

Here's another chapter and a little background on Herwald's past. His relationship with his adoptive family and his sister (now cousin). Next chapter Severus Snape makes his entrance. How will the repentant Death Eater be? Good, Bad, Neither? Will he be repentant at all?

Stay tuned to find out more and don't forget to review.

Thanks for all the reviews so far. Your support is appreciated.

PS: try to leave a email address or at least log in if you want to receive a reply to your reviews. I don't intend to inflate the word count by answering you every update unless I need to clarify something for everyone. Thank you very much for your cooperation.

Bye.


	10. Lessons and Friends

**Chapter 9 – Lessons and Friends**

* * *

Herwald was very excited. As he had guessed his very first lesson would be double Potion with Professor Snape. The man was a luminary that had very little competition through all Magical Europe and one of the youngest Potion Master in history. It was really a great opportunity to be taught by such a prominent figure. Granted it would take years before the difficulty of the subject could reach a point where his level of genius could come into play, but at least it gave the young student something to look forward to.

He was, of course, the only one to think that outside of Slytherin. Word of Snape unpleasant character had spread like wildfire among the firsties thanks to the older students experience from previous years. Herwald wasn't bothered by such trivial things. Being a Master Potioneer didn't incite in developing social skill and beside keeping the students focused on their cauldrons was more a priority than befriend them.

With an hopeful look in his eyes he made his way to the dungeons in such an high spirit that he wasn't bothered by the distance the other students put between him and them. He wasn't in a rush to make friends anyway. Reputation is to be built with time and effort after all.

They had class with the 'Puffs and not even them looked forward to met _'The Bat'_ as the older students nicknamed the Potion master behind his back. They all took place in groups of two except for Herwald that was left by himself. Well they were in an odd number so somebody had to be left on his own. He wasn't bothered by that anyway. He always worked on his potion alone and had always been happy with the result.

Once they all sat down the door closed and everyone turned to look at the Master Potioneer. Herwald had to admit that the nickname was fitting. Dressed in dark robes that billowed behind him as he strode to his desk, the man looked just like an overgrown bat. The dark classroom didn't help him shrug off that vivid image.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. … I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

The class was silent. No student dared to breath too loudly. The man had the theatrics part down right.

"Let's begin with a little quiz, shall we?" he asked in the same warm tone of voice as before, which means cold as ice. "Miss Bones!" The redhead girl almost jumped out of her skin at her name being called. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I-I-I don't know, sir," she said with an almost tearful voice. The Professor merely shook his head.

"Let's try another. Mr. Grindelwald, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Herwald cocked an eyebrow at the question. Was the man actually serious? A bezoar of all things? Sure, he had a firsthand experience with that helpful little rock, but it should be common knowledge to anyone raised in the Wizarding world. He felt a little insulted at this level of question and he couldn't help but be a little cheeky with his answer.

"Since it's a stone renown for being an antidote to most poisons I would look inside your cupboard first, sir, as it should be part of the standard provision for any respected potion lab. However, if by some unexplainable and completely unjustifiable reason I couldn't find any in there, I would ask the school healer for one, pretty much for the same motives as before. If even there I couldn't find it I would have to Floo to the closest apothecary, and file a complaint with the Board of Governors while I'm on my way there. But If with your question you actually meant where the stone is originated, as I suppose you did, then the answer would the stomach of a goat."

The professor's left eyebrow twitched but he said nothing beside "Correct. Although as you said that was rather easy. Let's try with something more difficult and see if you can keep your cheek intact, Mr. Grindelwald. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfs bane?"

"It's the same plant," Herwald answered much to the surprise of his professor. That particular plant wasn't mentioned in any book before third year, neither for Herbology nor Potions. The man was actually pleased for once but Herwald wasn't finished. "Also known as aconite it's one of the main ingredients in the Wolfsbane potion, that allows a werewolf to maintain his human consciousness during his transformation."

This time the Potion master was actually impressed. Sure it was all knowledge that could be found in a decent, albeit advanced potion text, but it showed at least some promise for the boy's future. However he wasn't about to let this thought be known. Merlin knew how children can make everything go to their heads.

"Correct again. Can you also answer the question Miss Bones couldn't?"

"Draught of the Living Death, sir. Adding asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion known as the Draught of Living Death."

'_All right, so it wasn't just a fluke'_ Snape thought behind his impassible mask. The boy actually had an interest in the subject. Perhaps he could make at least a decent potioneer out of the whole lot. He was about to reward him five points when their eyes truly met for the first time. Emerald green stared into Pitch black orbs and Snape voice died in his throat. A memory of the past flashed through his eyes and the emotion almost slipped on his face. Almost.

"Five point to Ravenclaw," he said aloud. "Well? why aren't you lot writing this all down?"

They were paired together to work on a simple boil cure potion. Nothing too difficult but, like any other potion, not following the correct procedure could bring nefarious results. Herwald was paired with Susan Bones much to her chagrin. She didn't want to believe the rumors about the boy, but she didn't want to be proven wrong either.

The lesson went on silently as Herwald did most of the job, explain to his impromptu companion what and why he was doing. The girl merely nodded here and there doing the small and not dangerous tasks Herwald set her to. She was actually grateful for that small mercy.

The silence was suddenly broken by a loud female gasp. Snape was holding tightly by her wrist an Hufflepuff girl, Hanna Abbot, looking at her positively murderous. "Silly girl. Adding the porcupine quills without removing the cauldron from the fire would be disastrous. Watch." He pulled her and her companion away before letting the handful of quills she had in her hands just a moment before fall in the incomplete concoction.

The cauldron melted and the contend splashed on the ground where it disappeared with all of the melted metal after a simple swish of the professor's wand. The girl gulped loudly watching the result of her thwarted mishap. That could have been her legs if the professor hadn't stopped her.

Since their all their work up to that point was for naught Hanna and her companion were split up among others. She jumped at the chance of rejoining her friend Susan, the both of them now actually happy to be working with someone that looked competent in the subject, dark wizard in the making or not.

The lesson continued with no other major incidents although Snape pleasantness kept bothering and distracting most students. Twenty minutes before the end of the lesson Herwald group had a very good looking potion bottled to prove their work while nobody else looked nearly close to finish. He began cleaning his desks and tools without magic under the disbelieving stares of his peers. Why would he even bother doing that when somebody could take care of it afterward with a quick spell?

"Mr. Grindelwald. What exactly is that are you doing?" Snape's voice asked. Herwald looked up from his work and stared at the glaring professor. Now he understood what the man was doing: he was making an example out of him.

"Cleaning my workspace and tools, sir," he answered respectfully.

"Why is that you are not using magic to do that? Are you a wizard or not?" the professor asked with a sneer. '_He is good at that,'_ Herwald thought.

"I am, sir. However, as specified in any basic potion text, cleaning the equipment using magic might pollute the tools and the workspace with lingering energy that will, not could, will affect the natural magic of the potion ingredients with effects varying from loss in efficiency to unstable reactions once mixed together." Through all his explanation his hands kept moving, cleaning every spot, corner and surface. He wasn't a genius in the field yet but he loved practicing while he was at home. The professor lost his sneer but kept a even expression.

"Indeed," the man said. "And that is the reason why Potion making is one of the most dangerous arts, matched only by Self-Transfiguration and Ward or Curse Breaking. We cannot use magic to float the ingredients in the cauldrons, we cannot enchant tools to cut, stir, sample the ingredients or bottle the fluids. Everything has to be done with our very own hands, and every mistake is at our own expense. Be glad that you didn't have to discover it on your own skins. Ten points to Ravenclaw for Mr. Grindelwald thoroughness."

Having finished before anybody else Herwald group was allowed to leave the classroom and go ahead to their next class beforehand. The two girls kept themselves a few steps behind the boy that managed to withstand Snape's dreadful examination.

"Why does Professor Snape have to breathe on our neck constantly? Potion is already difficult as it is without him hovering upon us," Hanna asked Susan.

"The second years keep telling that he loves belittling every student outside of Slytherin since he's their Head of House," Susan replied in an equally hushed tone perhaps fearing that the man could appear out of thin air at the simple mention of his name. Which was of course ridiculous without having a Taboo cast upon it.

"I don't think it's anything like that," Herwald interrupted. Both girls jumped at his voice coming from their left. He had slowed down to fall into step without them noticing. He didn't bother to acknowledge their discomfort.

"W-W-What makes you think so?" Susan asked trying to overcome her fear. The boy had been polite to her so far, if a little cold. '_Not that I've been any better to him' _ she thought.

"As the Professor said," he began adjusting his glasses on his nose, "brewing potions is extremely dangerous. Even the simplest concoction, as your friend found out, can potentially backfire painfully," he pointed Hanna with a nod of his head. The girl hid away from him behind her friend with a scared squeal. "As students we work in a controlled environment where the risks are minimized, but that makes most people too relaxed and distracted with obvious results. It might be unpleasant, but the professor has a duty to keep the environment as close as possible to real life, where the threat of a lethal mistake keeps us focused on the task at hand. He has to compensate for the lack of actual tension by keeping the students under pressure. Of course not everybody has enough presence of mind and self control to spend hours, days or even weeks working on a potentially lethal concoction without slipping up in the process. That's why most students drop out of Potion right after taking their OWLs, when the subject becomes really dangerous."

"Oh!" Susan and Hanna said at the same time. "That actually makes sense," Susan continued while Hanna simply nodded frantically to appease the Dark Wizard ego.

"Then again, Professor Snape might simply be a _natural charmer_ who has found his calling in life by tormenting untalented potioneers in training," Herwald joked with a smile, breaking the tension between the three. The two girls giggled awkwardly.

'_Baby steps,'_ Herwald thought _'baby steps.'_

They reached the Transfiguration classroom and surprised Professor McGonagall in the act of transforming into a cat. She immediately reversed the transformation to address the newly arrived students.

"May I know exactly what are you doing here so early Miss Bones, Miss Habbot and Mr. … Grindelwald?" The Scottish woman asked clearly not pleased at being found out before she could pull her little animagus trick even if the three of them were extremely impressed. Well the two girls at least. The boy seemed completely unaffected.

"We have finished our potion early thanks to Herwald's help and Professor Snape allowed us to leave while the others finished to clean their desks,"

"Ah… Mr. Grindelwald…?" She asked like she had swallowed something extremely sour. "Professor Snape is very strict with his students. You must have left a truly positive impression if he allowed you the privilege of leaving his class earlier," Herwald bowed his head in acceptance of her difficultly delivered appreciation. "Well then, sit and don't tell your friends what you just saw. I want to surprise them with a little advanced trick." They nodded and scurried to their seats. The girls went to the opposite side of the classroom than Herwald since they would be seating with their housemates as soon as they would arrive.

They didn't have to wait long. Five minutes later the rest of their classmates came in and quickly found their seats. Being in the first row of desk the rest of his house couldn't shun him without it looking suspicious and so an Indian girl found herself sitting beside the Scion of Grindelwald.

Actually the girl didn't look much scared of him. She seemed more curious than anything else but Herwald couldn't say if it was because of the rumors or because of his performance back in Potions.

"Hi. I'm Padma Patil," she gave him her hand to shake.

"Herwald Grindelwald," he said grasping her hand and kissing her knuckles much to the surprise of the presents. "Pleased to meet you Miss Patil."

"Just call me Padma. It feels weird to be called Miss Patil by someone my age and besides you'll get confused with my twin sister Parvati in Gryffindor."

"Very well Padma. Then I insist you call me Herwald as well. Actually I'm relieved that someone form my year wants to speak with me. I was already feeling like a pariah and it's just the first day of term. Not scared by the rumors? "

"Hm? Oh no, not at all. Mom always taught me to judge people based on their actions and not on what people say of them. Beside back in India we don't have this Light versus Darkness mentality at all. It's all a matter of perception anyway, isn't it?" The girl asked with a smile.

"Quite," Herwald said. "It's good to meet somebody that actually uses its brain to make decisions. It's refreshing."

"I can only imagine. Say, don't you think that Professor McGonagall should be here by now?"

"Actually… she already is."

On cue with his words the cat jumped from the desk and transformed back into the stern Scottish Professor. Every student but the three who already witnessed this particular feat gasped in surprise.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned." She made an example by changing her desk into a pig and back again, picking up the interest of the whole class.

Naturally changing inanimate object into pseudo-living beings was NEWT level material and the students enthusiasm soon deflated.

After a good half an hour taking notes they were given a matchstick with the task of transforming it into a needle, a feat that only one student managed to do at the first try. No longer than five seconds after his little stick of wood and pyretic material was given to him Herwald was holding a perfect silver needle in his hands. McGonagall blinked twice before stuttering "W-well done Mr. Grindelwald. Five points to Ravenclaw."

Once again the presents were shocked by the talent Herwald was showing but they didn't know he had begun practicing with Magic when he was only five years old. His control over his magic was well beyond his age and even his knowledge of many subjects was more advanced.

"How did you do it? Mine doesn't change at all," Padma whispered as Professor McGonagall walked between the students to examine their progress.

"It's not a single process," he spoke aloud drawing everyone attention. "Break it down by steps. Look at the matchstick and memorize it. You got it? Now close your eyes. Can you recall it perfectly? Picture it changing to silver. It's not difficult, isn't it?" Behind her closed eyelid she did has she told her. "Very good now picture it growing a head with a hole in it." Again she did just that. "Now make it pointy," he prompted her. "Now open your eyes."

She was surprised to see the matchstick gone replace by a needle. Well, it was a little rough around the edges but it was still a great job for her first time. When he tried the years before he didn't manage nearly half of that result. Never mind the fact that he was only seven years old at the time.

"Not bad for a first try, Padma. Congratulations," Herwald complimented. The rest of the students quickly proceeded to imitate the procedure with varying degrees of results, while Padma asked for another matchstick to perfect the process.

"Mr. Grindelwald, Visualization is an advanced subject of Transfiguration that we won't undertake until later this year. May I how why you do have such an advanced knowledge and prowess?" There was an implied accusation in her tone and narrowed eyes. Of course he had performed magic before he was eleven, but that didn't mean he broke the law to do that.

"That would be because I begun studying and performing _legal" _he stressed the word "wand-magic when I was seven years old. My family is extremely influential and this makes us the target of many ill intended people who have no qualms in going after a kid to gain a leverage on us. I have been granted a dispensation from the law of Underage Sorcery in order to be able to defend myself in case of emergency. A privilege that has been granted to me after three thwarted attempts of kidnapping at my expenses. Furthermore my family… reputation doesn't make it easy for me to socialize outside of the close circle of my relatives, giving me plenty of time to practice my control over my magic."

She gave him a firm nod of understanding and resumed her patrol. It was obvious she didn't like his family and that she would right behind him if and when he screwed something up, but it was also clear that she wouldn't it hinder her professionalism. In all honesty it was more than Herwald expected.

Secretly, he was quite pleased with his ability to hide the truth without outright lying. It was true that he has been performing magic _legally_ since the age of seven, but that didn't mean he hadn't done magic _illegally_ before that. A tiny little omission that deflected McGonagall accusation without telling anything that was anything but the absolute truth. Such is the power of wording.

The lesson continued smoothly even if some of the students muttered something about unfair privileges here and there. Herwald wondered if those idiots would have traded their happy childhoods and loving families for his, if that granted them the privilege to perform magic before enrolling into school. He was mildly certain they wouldn't but he wasn't about to ask and spill his guts to them. The ignorant fools could go on and believe his life was all sunshine and bunnies until their brains rotted away from the lack of use for all he cared.

On the other hand Padma submerged him with questions about his knowledge of magic in true Ravenclaw fashion and he was more than happy to help such an eager and open minded individual. They were so rare even among children in those times of bigotry and ignorance.

Alas, he had to make the best out of what he was given and he wouldn't lose time trying to make the masses understand the error of their ways. It was neither his duty nor his interests and he preferred to focus on gathering a small number of gifted and intelligent individuals to work and make friends with.

Later on in his life he would realize that it was the same kind of mindset Lord Voldemort and every notable Dark Lord applied in selecting his forces.

They were given homework before leaving for lunch. Padma kept Herwald company and other students as well didn't put that much distance from him as before, not because they had changed his opinion of him but because it was obvious that he was both skilled and, more than everything else knowledgeable, which was like honey to a fly for any self-respecting 'Claw.

* * *

Padma and Herwald ate lunch together chatting quietly on many different topics, not everyone school related, until something happened that caused quite a show.

"What do you think you are doing Grindelwald?" a familiar voice called from behind him. Herwald turned back to look at the carbon copy in Gryffindor colors of the girl sitting beside him.

"I… beg your pardon?"

"Get away from my sister right now," she growled at him. People began looking at them. Herwald raised an eyebrow at her.

"Parvati? What are you doing?" Padma asked.

"What makes you think, Miss Patil," Herwald addressed the Gryffindor girl, "that it is me that is sitting beside your sister and not other way around?" He asked amused. More people began to look at the confrontation.

"Because my sister is a self respecting witch that would have nothing to do with the likes of you."

"Parvati!" Padma shrieked trying and failing not to draw more attention.

"And… what exactly are… the likes of me?" the wizard asked clearly amused. He was used to be feared and despised but never that openly.

"You think I don't know? My housemates told me everything about your family. Dark Wizards the lot of you. Scum like you should rot in Azkaban for the rest of their lives."

"PARVATI!" This time her sister didn't try to keep her voice down. The whole Hall now was looking at them. "APOLOGIZE TO HERWALD RIGHT NOW!"

"No, that's all right Padma. Your sister it's just looking out for you. There is no need to get in an argument with her over me. I'm finished here anyway. I'll go to the library and begin working on my assignments." He stood up and took his bag.

"Herwald I'm…" Padma tried to apologize on her sister behalf, who kept sneering at him in the meanwhile, but Herwald cut her off.

"It's okay. I'm used to it anyway; I didn't expect people to accept me right immediately anyway. Don't worry about it."

He left the Hall under the stares of many. Dumbledore grimaced at the sight of an innocent boy being blamed from mistakes that were not his own. McGonagall was secretly proud for her cub protecting her sister from an unsavory individual. The Gryffindor table more or less cheered Parvati when she went back for the courage to stand up to a Dark Wizard, with the exception of a bushy haired girl too timid to stand up for a simple acquaintance, and the Boy-Who-Lived who kept looking at the retreating back of Herwald with a bitter taste in his mouth. That kind of bigotry was not was he was taught to appreciate and it nauseated him a great deal. A few moments after Herwald had left the hall Alex Potter stood up and followed him, ignoring the call of his friend Ron Weasley that asked him where he was going.

"Grindelwald, wait up," Alex called in the corridors as he followed the other boy. Herwald looked at him with a neutral expression.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"I, uh…" he stuttered as he reached him. "I just wanted to apologize on behalf of my house. That kind of prejudiced behavior is not something I endorse or appreciate, I wanted to…"

"It's all right, Mr. Potter. It's not your place nor duty to apologize for something they think. I'm used to that kind of treatment anyway. I do, however, appreciate the thought. I would have never imagined that someone would go out of his way for my sake," Herwald explained gratefully.

"That's okay. I think my father would act pretty much the same way they did, but my mother taught me not to let prejudice cloud my judgment and I agree with her. You have yet to prove yourself but the way you dealt with Parvati is not what one would expect by a Dark Lord in the making. Not if Draco Malfoy sets the standard anyway."

Herwald laughed at the joke and stretched his hand to Alex. He shook it without hesitation.

"Malfoy hardly sets the standard for anything except inbreeding," Herwald joked back. "No, wait, no, he doesn't. That's Crabbe and Goyle field of expertise." They both laughed this time.

"Yes that's probably true. Listen Herwald… err can I call you that right?"

"Sure thing, Alex." The resumed walking side by side on the way to the library.

"Well if anybody from my house gives you any trouble because of your name let me know. I don't know if anybody would listen to a first year and I don't really like going around throwing my Boy-Who-Lived status to gain favors, but I won't just stand by and watch any bullies get their own way ," Alex explained.

"I appreciate it, Alex, but don't worry. Words can hardly hurt me and I can take care of myself with a wand if the push come to shove. Besides having a reputation as a Dark Wizard has many perks."

"It does?" Alex asked raising an eyebrow. "How so?"

"It helps me differentiate people worthy of my time from the sheep that populate the Wizarding World. Just like you have done by coming after me or as Padma did standing up for me against her sister."

"I see," Alex said with a smile. Herwald was basically telling him that he was worth his time for something he had done on his own volition, rather some magical fluke happened years before. It was a nice change for once. "Are you one? A Dark Wizard?" he asked without really thinking about it. He grimaced at his own lack of sensibility but Herwald didn't seem to mind.

"You know? You are actually the first one to ask me that without assuming either possible answer. I suppose it depends from your definition for that title. If you are asking me if I know and practice the Dark Arts the answer would be yes," he explained. Alex looked at him warily but let Herwald continue before speaking. "Being your father an auror you probably know that there are only three spells that are completely banned without a dispensation from the Ministry," Alex nodded, "every other spell is frowned upon but they are not illegal to perform in self-defense or to protect one's private property. A few rituals that require the sacrifice of an animal before rendering them into ingredients are definitely Dark in nature, but they are needed anyway for some extremely advanced healing potions. In fact, before my great uncle smeared our name with his failed Champaign we were renown as healers, potioneers and suppliers of magical ingredients and materials. Our early fortune was built upon that before we expanded our business in many other avenues and countries."

"So you are a Dark Wizard," Alex pointed out but without malice.

"Yes. However there's nothing wrong in being one, it would be illegal otherwise," Herwald explained and Alex conceded the point with a nod of his head. "Dark Arts deal with destruction, chaos and death, but Death is a very fundamental step for Life; it defines it and completes it. Neither can exists without the other as any Druid worth his salt would tell you. It's not very liked and appreciated but it's part of life anyway. Sadly here in Britain Dark Wizard are often mistaken with Blood Purists, which we are not."

"So you are not like the Death Eaters, going out of your way to hurt others for your own gain or pleasure?"

"Exactly," Herwald confirmed happy that someone finally understood. "I can and will retaliate any offense in kind, depending of course on the degree of the offense. Sneers and insults are below my notice. I don't take kindly to slanders but there are solicitors for that kind of things. It is however extremely unhealthy trying to assault me either by magic or physically. In the family we don't tend to give the chance for a second attack, neither immediately nor afterward, if you catch my drift."

Alex nodded again, divided between being wary and being amused. Herwald was telling him that his way to deal with threats was the exact opposite of his father and Dumbledore's but he didn't feel like judging him for the way he decided to protect himself. He didn't approve it or appreciate it but it wasn't his business. He did however appreciate his honesty.

"So you are more like a live and let live kind of guy?" Alex asked.

"Yes, but not quite," came Herwald cryptic reply.

"Oh?"

Herwald smirked. "Just like you I really can't stand bullies and I often go out of my way to teach them a lesson," then he resumed his neutral expression. "This is where I stop. Unless you plan to keep me company while I'm doing my assignments, I guess I'll be seeing you around."

"I guess…" Alex said shaking Herwald hand again. The boy had left him a little confused but he didn't think Herwald was actually a bad guy. At least he didn't seems so.

* * *

Herwald passed the following two hours in the library. Being the first day his assignments weren't very difficult or even long to finish, but he had other things he wanted to. He was scribbling something on a thick muggle notebook using a muggle pen when his attention was called elsewhere.

"Mr. Grindelwald?" A feminine voice called. Herwald found himself looking at two girl dressed in silver and green.

"Miss Greengrass, Miss Davis, good afternoon. How can I help you?" The two girl sat on the opposite side of the table.

"Oh, we don't really need anything Mr. Grindelwald. We just found ourselves wondering what exactly you are doing. It certainly doesn't look like any assigned work." The blonde headed Daphne Greengrass said. Herwald looked down at his work before closing the notebook and passing it over at the two girl.

"_A_ _Compendium to Potions_" she read aloud the first page. _"_You are writing a book on Potions?_"_ She asked surprised. She already knew about the boy proficiency at potion. Professor Snape actually took a liking to him. As much as Snape could possibly like something anyway. Still it was completely unheard, and completely unbelievable that a first year would even try to write a book on the subject.

"Yes. Actually I'm not writing anything that had not been written before but the way books are organized in the Wizarding World is simply sickening. There is no text that takes on a subject in a ordinate and logical fashion, so I'm reorganizing the materials in a way that makes sense."

"It's pretty ambitious for a first year," the brunette Tracey Davis comment. "Sounds boring too." Herwald chuckled.

"I suppose it could look like that, but not for me. I love potions. Besides it's rather useful, I'm planning to make one for every other subject I take here at Hogwarts."

"On top of your standard assignments? It could be difficult in the later years," Dapnhe observed.

"I suppose, but I don't plan to take that long anyway. That one book your are holding took me a month to write and it contains all Potions in the standard Hogwarts' curriculum form this year up to the OWLs."

Daphne and Tracey eyes widened and snapped back to the notebook the blond haired Slytherin was holding. The value of that kind of text was obvious to anyone who cared about his grades.

"Do you think we could borrow it sometimes?" Tracey asked without removing her eyes form the little stack of priceless information.

"Why not? I'll finish it before next weekend and once it's done I can simply have it duplicated for the both of you."

"You would?" Daphne asked. "But Muggle paper is too frail to resist active magic like that." Herwald shrugged.

"Never said I would use magic to do it. Muggles have their own way to replicate things that doesn't involve magic," he explained.

"Oh," came the short reply of the two witches. "Thanks," they spoke in unison again. Herwald chuckled at them.

"It's okay. I might just make a few more copies to give to the OWLs year students while I'm it."

"Give? Didn't you mean sell?" Tracey smirked.

"No, why would I? I definitely don't need the money, but I could certainly use some advanced help from NEWTs year students later on. Sound like a nice bargain to me. It's always a good thing having some favors to cash that money can't buy."

"How very… Slytherin of you," an amused Daphne commented. No wonder professor Snape like the boy.

"Now, now let us not be naïve. It's not like I needed to be sorted into the House of Snakes to be able to use my brain for something other than academics. Although the hat did want to sort me there. After I've blackmailed it, that is."

"Ah, that's another interesting topic. It took it forever to sort you, and there was also that oath what you took. What was that all about?" Tracey asked him.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss. The oath bind me to secrecy, and besides blackmail material loses its value if it's too widespread. I can tell you though, that I demanded him to sort me into Ravenclaw for the reasons I've explained you on the boat and because I wouldn't help someone with my reputation to be sorted into a _Dark House_. Too troublesome."

"You certainly are one of a kind Mr. Grindelwald. I'm going to keep an eye on you from now on," Daphne declared. Again Herwald chuckled in response.

"Feel free to do that but you can take the liberty to call me by my first name if you like. For one thing I wouldn't mind calling you by yours."

"Perhaps I will Mr. Grindelwald, perhaps I won't. You have yet to earn the privilege to call me by my name. Come on Tracey, we have taken already too much of his time. Until next time Mr. Grindelwald." She stood up and moved to leave the library with Tracey right behind her.

"Don't mind her, Herwald," Tracey said as she left. "You can call me Tracey by the way. I'll see you around. Bye." She winked at him before closing the door of the library behind her.

Alone in the now completely silent library Herwald glanced at his pocket watch before gathering his things and leaving for the Ravenclaw tower. He wanted to explore that castle a little before dinner and maybe a bit afterward as well if he still had enough time. The castle was positively huge and had many places unknown to most, like the fabled Chamber of Secrets, if one wanted to believe in its existence. He had heard about some of the secret passages from a few graduated students he had met at one of his family social gathering and he wanted to find them as soon as he could. The boy that was once Scar always liked to know every possible escape route, just in case.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

Here's another chapter. Pretty much standard stuff (a few lines from the original book too).

A few things that needs to be pointed out

1 – The forbidden third floor corridor: Any idiot in posses of its brain would know that telling children not to do something would insure that at least a few would do exactly that. If the stone is hidden in the school (not going to tell you yet) it won't be advertised by the headmaster. Sealing the door is enough to keep most students away.

2 – Severus Snape is not an Evil Git with anger management issues. He still is a very unpleasant man on the surface tough. We'll find out more as the story progresses. Minerva McGonagall is still the same as Canon but she has her reason to dislike Herwald or any Grindelwald for that matter. However just like canon she won't do anything against him if he doesn't break any rule, much like she did with Draco in the books. She's impartial when it comes to her job.

3 – Summoning Charm: I've been pointed out that it doesn't make sense for Hermione to be capable of using the Summoning Charm on her second try. I respectfully disagree. It's the only spell to my immediate knowledge that doesn't require any wand movement to be cast. Just the application of intent through magic. I think that, much like apparition, it's not a spell taught before one is considered mature enough not to summon something that had been deliberately put away from reach. Warding an area against summoning is costly and charming an item to be un-summonable is a major bother just to keep things away from reach. Thus the summoning charm is not taught until fourth year.

4 – Blood Adoption: The ritual doesn't kill immediately the donor, but it's a slow process where one's life and magic is transferred to the recipient trough the years. Gerard is still alive despite his other affliction on top of the ritual because is one thought _SOW_ (Son of a Witch).

5 – The pairing in the story doesn't mean a romantic involvement between the characters. I'm going to write a book for each year, and hopefully a short story for the summers in between with adventures not related or not strictly related to Voldemort's war, and every story will have a different secondary character listed in the summary. Just so you know. I can tell you already that book two will be

****** SPOILER ****SPOILER**

****** SPOILER ****SPOILER **

Just kidding I'm not going to tell you…..

**END SPOILER**************

**END SPOILER**************

That's all that comes to mind right now.

Don't forget to review.

Bye.


	11. Doors and Trolls

**Chapter 10 – Doors and Trolls**

* * *

The following days were pretty much quiet for young Herwald, people kept away from him with a few notable exception being Padma Patil, who apologized profusely for her sister behavior, and most of the Slytherin House.

Herwald tried and succeeded to avoid any contact with the Scion of the Malfoys. The boy was a ponce with very little brain and he didn't want to have anything to do with him if he could help it. Of course he knew he couldn't avoid him forever but at least he would try his best to make such occurrences scarce.

It came the day for their first flight lesson, something most male student looked forward to. Herwald appreciated the sense of freedom that came with flying but he wasn't interested in other activities related to a broom like Quidditch. He found the sport extremely boring especially since a single player could overturn the tide of the whole game and end the game at the same time. Beside how was one supposed to follow a game that could go on for weeks at a time? He made no sense for someone as busy as him and thus he didn't even bother joining a conversation related to Quidditch.

Things went smoothly that day for him and he had no problem with his broom whatsoever. Madam Hooch was a stern teacher that put safety at the forefront of her class.

Later that day he discovered that things didn't go quite as smoothly for the Gryffindors and Slytherin. Some kind of accident happened to Longbottom that had landed him in the hospital wing, and while Madam Hooch was attending his injured student something happened between Potter and Malfoy, something that involved a Remeberball apparently.

Knowing both parties involved there was little doubt in Herwald's mind that it was something spurred by Draco, but somehow the one landed in trouble was Alex. Herwald had to give the blonde ponce some credit; he knew how to dodge blame.

Herwald didn't know exactly how things went but it appeared that Alex prowess on a broom had granted him the right to become part of the Quidditch team, a privilege he had outright refused.

"ARE YOU MENTAL?" a shocked Ron Weasley shouted from the Gryffindor table? "McGonagall wanted you on the team and you turned her down? You asked to be put in detention? What's wrong with you mate?"

"Ron, calm down. It was the right thing to do."

"What? Why?"

"First years can't join the team. I don't want to have rules bent so that I can play. It's just not right and I did go against Madam Hooch instructions when I stood up to Malfoy. Seriously Ron, I don't want any privilege. Do you think that anyone else but the Boy-Who-Lived would have been asked to join the team after blatantly breaking some rules?" Alex asked knowing the answer already.

"Err… no but… it's Quidditch, mate. You love the game as much as I do," the youngest male Weasley protested.

"True. And I'm going to fight for my spot on the team next year after the trials like everybody else, and I'm going to serve my detention like I should for breaking the rules."

"But… Malfoy had taken Neville's Rememberball."

"And I should have reported it to Madam Hooch as soon as she came back instead of taking things in my hands. Listen Ron, I don't regret what I did even if I could have handled it better. It remains the fact that I have broken the rules and I'm going to pay the price like anybody else. Period."

"Oh, all right," Ronald sighed. "But I remain of my opinion: you are mental."

"Fair enough," Alex laughed.

At the staff table Professor McGonagall was divided between disappointment at not having a talented seeker in her House team and pride for young Mr. Potter sense of fairness. The boy showed promise both as a Quidditch player and as a person. Still she felt sour since the cup wouldn't be placed in her office for another year.

The rest of the Gryffindors were somewhere on that same line, sad that Alex hadn't joined the team but proud of his sense of justice. Herwald was another of those who silently approved of Alex's behavior. It took a fine person to renounce something desired for the sake of what's right. Maybe he, in Alex's place, would have chosen differently, since it was in his nature to take advantage of something that came with little to no disadvantage. However he could respect the boy resolve in pursuing his sense of righteousness even when it played against him.

Everything proceeded as normal for the next few weeks. Lessons in the morning and nights if they had astronomy. Every morning Herwald worked up before breakfast and in the afternoon and before curfew he explored the castle, a task far from being easy. Not only the place was gigantic, it also… shifted. Three different paths lead to the same corridor depending on which day of the week it was. A few doors were locked; others were just wall pretending to be a door. Other opened only if you asked politely, although, as Herwald found out, threats worked out just fine.

He was walking down a corridor on the third floor of the right wing when a door caught his attention. Strangely he walked past it without seeing and only because he stopped to tie his shoes he saw it with the corner of his eye.

'What the hell?' he thought has he stood up again and walked to the… nothing... _'Oh, clever. A Notice-Me-Not charm applied to the door.'_ Moved back where he tied his shoe, well beyond the limit of the charm and looked where the door was supposed to be. _'There it is,'_ he thought looking at the now noticeable door. _'It looks like wizard-made and not one of the castle's tricks. What sort of room could warrant this kind of security measure? What could it contain? Something dangerous or something precious? Or.. both?"_

Now focusing his attention he fixed his eyes on the wood plane and marched to it. He could feel the charm prompting him to look away from it, even if to put it out to his field of vision. Herwald's resolve didn't waver and with three more steps he was standing right in front of the door, breaking the effect of the charm upon him. He could just try to push the door open but he wasn't that stupid. If someone had warded that door the likelihood of other security measures being applied was quite high. They could go from being simple locking charms to harmful curses for whoever tried to push the door open without disabling it first.

He grabbed his Hawthorn wand with a dragon heartstring core to cast a few revealing spells when he thought better. With a flick of his left wrist his unregistered Yew wand was in his hands. That way, even if somebody examined his wand with _Priori Incatatem_ nothing would show up beside school related spells.

With a smooth movement he cast the spells and he was glad to have been smart enough not to try opening the door. There were no harmful curses, reasonable in a school filled with children, but he found three different alarm spells interlaced with each other so that one couldn't be disarmed without triggering the other, and a tracking charm ready to stick on whomever tried to push the door open. Seriously whatever was behind that door was either worth a lot or painfully dangerous.

His ears picked up the sound of incoming footsteps. It was one person and by the timing it looked like an adult. Cursing himself he holstered both his wands. There was probably another alarm charm intertwined with the Notice-Me-Not that went off when he broke the effect.

Hiding was useless at that point so he did the only reasonable thing and waited for whoever was coming to show up. He didn't have to wait long.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore run as fast as his legs could carry him. The first alarm went off in the third floor corridor. Someone had broken through the first layer of protection. Someone powerful or focused enough to shrug off the Notice-Me-Not charm he had personally casted. He could have _flamed_ there with fakes but the other spells still didn't signal anyone touching the handle. Whoever he was it was biding his time.

He basically jumped upward over a flight of stairs and when he turned the last corner he stopped.

Icy Green eyes met Warm Blue. A relieved sigh escaped the old wizard throat. The two examined one another for a couple of seconds. The oldest watched the impassible younger wizard, apparently not surprised by the Headmaster sudden appearance. The youngest stared at the aged man with cold eyes and seemingly disinterest. His gaze however didn't miss the lack of fastened breathing or sweat from the old man. Despite his advanced age the Headmaster appeared to be still in his prime.

"Good evening Headmaster," Herwald broke the silence. "It wasn't my intention to make you run all the way here."

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow. '_They boy knows about the alarm spells? Then why did he trigger them? Did he found out only afterward?'_

"Good evening, Mr. Grindelwald. I'm not sure what you mean by making me run here,"

"I suppose then that the alarms entwined with the wards on this door aren't keyed to you?" Herwald said nonchalantly. _'You want to play ignorant? Let's see how you deal with a straightforward approach.'_

"I didn't say that," the Headmaster answered with a twinkle in his eyes.

"No you didn't. Is there anything I can help you with then, Headmaster?"

"No, not at all. I would, however, suggest you not to come here anymore. That door is warded for a reason that's best left unsaid. Certain things are not to be placed within a child's reach. I'm sure you'll understand."

"But of course," Herwald said with a smile. A smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I will carefully avoid touching this door from now on, and of course I won't speak of this place with anyone else. Boys my age have a taste for breaking rules and venture in forbidden places, after all."

Again the two smiled at each other and Albus couldn't help but shiver at how much the boy attitude resembled Gellert's.

"That would be extremely appreciated. We had a hard time deciding to hide this place rather than expressly forbidding access. As you said, children have a taste for going against prohibitions. Thank Merlin good sense prevailed, otherwise I fear there would be a line of students trying to figure out why they should stay away from this place. I trust that you will uphold your word and leave this door alone."

"Certainly, Headmaster. I don't need to be told twice. I do possess common sense, and if the defenses applied to this door say anything it's that whatever is contained room beyond it is better left alone. "

"So young and so wise already. You'll make your family proud," Albus complimented. It didn't look like he was lying. Nothing in his voice or his body language hinted otherwise. Still, the boy was acting oddly for his age and was way too smart and knowledgeable for a first year. Even if he was the Scion of Grindelwald his composure was little unsettling. It would be better if he erected a few more wards on the door specifically to keep the boy away. It was for his safety, after all. He already had the demise of one Grindelwald on his conscience and he didn't want to add another anytime soon.

"I do try, Headmaster. Now, I believe I should head to the Great Hall. Dinner should begin anytime soon. I will leave my exploration of the castle for another day."

"That would be a good idea, Mr. Grindelwald. Mind if I keep you company on the way there?" The headmaster asked with his best grandfatherly voice.

"Not at all. There are a few things I wanted to know about Hogwarts that I didn't found in _Hogwarts a History_. What can you tell me about the Chamber of Secrets?"

September passed in a heartbeat. Herwald continued to be an outcast but the glares began subsiding after the second week of school, in favor of Draco Malfoy. The boy couldn't keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it. Soon enough the blonde ponce surpassed him in the competition for the title of most hated wizard on the school grounds. Herwald was also helped by the fact that Alex Potter didn't participate in the widely appreciated game of insulting him when the professors weren't in hearing range. In fact if he was in hearing range he would quickly make his displeasure known and all those who sucked him up for his fame would quickly shut up. More often than not the only form of communication between them was a nod of the head, but it was more meaningful than most conversation he had thus far, barring Padma, Tracey and Daphne, although the two Slytherin girls avoided associating with him when anybody else was around to see.

Perhaps they could have become closer if Potter's close friend Ron Weasley wasn't such a narrow-minded bigot. It didn't help the fact that the Claws shared most of their practical lessons with the Puffs, efficiently banning any meaning conversation with the Gryffindors. Apparently even the class schedule didn't work in Herwald favor when it came to befriending the Boy-Who-Lived.

It came the day for Herwald's first DaDA class with Professor Quarrel. The subject was laughable and the professor was positively annoying with his constant stuttering and he wasn't helped by the fact that every time the man's gaze met him a sudden headache spurred from within his cranium. It wasn't the effect of a Legimency probe, and his shield were strong to keep out of his head everyone that tried to take a peek without using a wand and casting the spell vocally anyway. Could it be some kind of ward the man had applied on himself? He had no way how knowing but he was convinced that there was something… misplaced about the man.

His Charm class on October 31 marked his first failure at performing flawlessly. He always had problem with the subject especially when it came to applying the spell to frail objects. Although he preformed the spell without a hitch his feather would either burst into flames or accelerate fast enough to embed itself into the stone walls. Professor Flitwick, a pint sized wizard with goblin blood in his veins was flabbergasted by the results and couldn't find any mistake in Herwald's spell. Believing that something could be wrong with the boy's magical core he scheduled an appointment with the school healer the following day.

Something else happened after class. Hermione Granger, run past him with tears filled eyes. He didn't know what was wrong with her but he could imagine. The girl was having a hard time in her house for being a know-it-all, as professor Snape was fond to call her. He didn't like when girls cried but knowing that the girl already had problem socializing with her housemates he preferred not to be seen with her in public. It wouldn't do her any good.

Herwald suspicions on Quirrell were confirmed that very night when said professor came running into the Great Hall during the feast, screaming like a madman "Troll. In the Dungeons. I thought you'd want to know," and promptly fainted face forward.

The Great Hall went into uproar. The Headmaster quickly instructed the prefects to escort the students back to their respective dorms while he and the other staff members would look for the uninvited beast.

Herwald fell in line with his Housemate, ready to be led to safety with everybody else when he heard Ron Weasley talking with Alex Potter.

"She's not here…" Ron muttered.

"Merlin, she doesn't know about the troll," Alex gasped.

"I've heard Parvati saying that she was still crying in the second floor bathroom."

"Damn it, Ron. This is all your fault. You had to insult her did you?" Alex accused.

"But… but I…"

Herwald had heard enough. He approached the Gryffindor's prefect, Percy Weasley and explained the situation. He wasn't pleased but he couldn't do anything about the situation. They were tasked to lead the students to safety and couldn't abandon their posts to look for a single stray student and jeopardize the safety of the rest of their Housemates.

"I mean to tell me that you are just going to let her alone? She might run into the troll anytime now." He protested.

"I know that, Grindelwald," Percy snapped, "but it would take at least three of us to deal with an adult troll. We can't send that many after the girl, and besides if she's in the bathroom the likelihood of her running into that beast are rather thin. I'm sure the professors will find the troll fast enough."

Herwald bit his lip. These bloody wankers weren't' going to do anything.

"Fine then. I will take care of it personally." He spun around and run in the direction of the bathroom.

"GRINDELWALD. COME BACK HERE," his prefect shouted. "Damn him. He's going to get me in trouble. Screw him! If the troll gets him it won't be such a big loss," he muttered under his breath.

Herwald legs carried him swiftly toward his destination but his ears picked equally fast feet behind him. He turned his head back enough to look as this pursuer.

"Potter? What the hell are you doing here?" He asked.

"I'm not going to let you face a troll alone," Alex said without losing speed.

"… All right but stay behind me if we run into the troll. I know how to deal with them."

"Who died and made you boss?" Alex asked a little annoyed at the other boy.

"Hopefully no one yet," Herwald retorted. "Just do what I say and nobody will get hurt."

"Fine. You'd better know what you're doing, Herwald."

"I always know what I'm doing, Alex."

They were about to reach the bathroom when a girlish scream reached their ears.

"Goddamit," Herwald swore. They both rushed inside just in time to see the Troll rise his club, ready to strike a terrified Hermione. Steeling his resolve Herwald stepped between her and the stanching beast under the shocked stare of his other schoolmates.

His eyes didn't betray any emotion. He knew what he had to do.

-oOo-

Albus Dumbledore had lived many, many decades. Some said too many others not enough but everybody agreed that in that span of time the renowned wizard had seen many things, form the most wondrous to the most horrible. There were very few things that could surprise him anymore, but _that_ was one of those occurrences.

The troll they have been looking for in the past half an hour was sitting in the Great Hall, stuffing his face with the food left behind by the fleeting students. His club was resting beside him while he laughed loudly at something one of the three children sitting on the opposite side of the table was telling him. The image was surreal to say the least. Trolls weren't known for being socializing creature. Quite the opposite in fact.

He and the rest of the equally flabbergasted staff members approached the table with caution. The troll stiffened and reached for his club but something one of the students said made him relax immediately. He motioned his colleagues to stay behind as he closed the rest of the distance.

"Ah, Miss Granger, Mister Potter and Mister Grindelwald. I admit that I'm surprised to see you here and in such … unusual company. Would you enlighten this old wizard about the circumstances that have brought the present situation?" He asked as he sat beside Hermione.

"I..I.. I think that Herwald can explain it better than us. Right Alex?" The overwhelmed witch asked for support. The Boy-Who-Lived simply nodded without removing his eyes from the troll who had resumed eating. He was too dumbfounded to elaborate with words. This wasn't the outcome he had imagined when he followed Herwald to rescue Hermione.

"Mr. Grindelwald?"

"Ah, yes. Good evening Headmaster," the boy said politely. "There's not much to tell. You see….

-oOo-

_Steeling his resolve Herwald stepped between her and the stanching beast under the shocked stare of his other schoolmates. His eyes didn't betray any emotion. He knew what he had to do._

"_Hey, there. Are you lost?" Herwald asked in the guttural language he had learned in his childhood. The trolls stopped in mid-swing, surprised that someone would speak his language in that place. He bent forward and took a sniff at Herwald._

"_Hrff. Puny creature do not smell like Troll. What is you?"_

"_A friend," Herwald answered._

"_Friend? Why is friend keeping me from snack?"_

"_She is no snack. Look, she's small and all bushy. No meat on those bones a human cub is not a very good meal."_

"_Maybe. But I is hungry. Bad food better than no food," the creature snarled._

"_But I know where to find good food. Want me to show you?"_

_The troll growling stomach answered for him. "Show me good food," he nodded._

-oOo-

"And that's how it is," Herwald concluded.

"So, knowing that you couldn't fight the troll you bribed him with food?" The headmaster asked divided between amusement and disbelief. "Were you not scared?"

Herwald shrugged. "No, I've learned how to speak Trollglish when I was a kid since we employ a few of them as security in a few of our mansions. Granted they can be dangerous with the size they have but they enjoy food far too much as you can see by yourself. It was all a matter of keeping him occupied while you arrived."

"An endeavor you handled extremely well if I can say so. What were you telling him to make him laugh like that by the way?"

"Oh. Trolls are fairly simple minded creatures. They like stories about knights and kings and the likes. Those and fart jokes."

"F-fart Jokes?" Dumbledore asked.

"Fart Jokes," Herwald confirmed with a nod.

"Oh. Very well then. Do you think that you can convince your new friend to return to the Forbidden Forest?"

"Done already. You just have to show him the way once he finished cleaning up his plate… plates. Just don't draw your wand and he won't attack you. I explained him that you are the boss around here. He doesn't want the whole school chasing him so he'll behave. They aren't smart but they have some sense of preservation."

"Very well then. I'll be escorting him to the exit. Would you three wait for me in my office? Professor McGonagall will escort you there."

"Of course Headmaster. We will be there."

-oOo-

Fifteen minutes later the Headmaster was back into his office with the rest of the professors and the three first year students.

"Ah, here we are finally. The night has proven to be quite intense so far. I won't hold you kids much longer. I would like to know how exactly how a Troll managed to get inside the castle and why Miss Granger wasn't at the feast. You'd all agree that the situation was neither normal nor acceptable. Miss Granger if you would."

Hearing her name the girl seemed to shrink. She was still shocked for meeting the troll and being now under the scrutiny of the whole school staff didn't help her relax in the slightest.

"I… I… I…" her stuttering was interrupted by Herwald.

"Miss Granger reasons for not participating at the feast are her own and are not related to the Troll presence into the castle." Dumbledore and McGonagall were about to reprieve but Herwald continued. "Certainly you don't want to know what a lady does while she's in the bathroom, do you?"

That seemed to shut them although Hermione's grateful expression was somehow ruined by the ferocious blush that had conquered her cheeks. Alex smirked amused by the interaction.

"Very well. I suppose that doesn't really matter," Dumbledore said with his eyes twinkling madly. The Grindelwald boy was proving himself to be quite amusing. "However I'd like to know why two first year students felt the need to chase after a mountain troll by themselves."

"An unwise choice in defiance of any common sense and against the clearly given instruction to return to your respective dorms. I am most disappointed in you all. Especially you, Mr. Potter I expected better from you."

Which was like saying that she didn't expect anything better from Herwald. A remark that didn't go unnoticed to anybody, students and teacher alike.

"You expected better from me Professor?" Alex asked surprised by his own defiant tone. "You expected better form me than helping a fellow student in peril?"

"Be it as it may Mr. Potter and Mr. Grindelwald you consciously went against our instructions and put yourselves in danger. Fifty points will be removed and you will serve a detention with Mr. Filch."

Reaction varied between the members of the staff. Flitwick was outraged by McGonagall harsh behavior even if he too understood the necessity to condemn any rule braking. Dumbledore understood the need to enforce discipline despite the good intentions behind their actions. He felt however too much animosity coming from his Deputy Headmistress and he knew that it came from her personal dislike, more a grudge than anything else, that inevitably spilled on the Potter boy by association.

Professor Snape stood silently in the background. Like the Slytherin he was he wasn't about to jump in a battle where he had nothing to gain, for the sake of students who were not from his House. The voice that stood out the most, however, came from the dark haired boy that spoke with an even tone, without a hint of anger.

"Certainly you jest," he said quietly and the room fell silent at the icy sound of his voice. "While I couldn't care less about that ridiculous House Cup you all seem to value so much, in this particularly instance I won't stand for any punishment you'd like to assign me."

That seemed like the wrong thing to say as McGonagall lips thinned to a line that reflected her barely contained anger.

"It appears, Mr. Grindelwald, that you believe you have a choice in the matter," her tone, laced with malice didn't escape the boy's ears. Her colleagues, knowing her temper took a step back. Dumbledore was about to defuse the situation but Herwald wasn't quite finished.

"It appears, Professor McGonagall, that you believe I don't," he answered back in kind, his tone of voice still even and apparently detached. "Tonight a severe breach in security took place and it fell to Mr. Potter and me to avoid a major incident from happening. Had we not gotten there in time Miss Granger wouldn't be here with us, and you have the gall to take us here and condemn our actions? I think not. Common sense would dictate I should report this incident to the Board of Governors and let them figure this whole mess out. I won't be the scapegoat for your manifest incompetence," he stood up under the disbelieving stares of the staff members. "I will consider this matter closed since nobody's injured. See that this kind of incidents won't happen again. I would be most displeased to see this ancient and noble institution under external scrutiny."

There was not a noise in the Headmaster's office. McGonagall was divided between outrage and surprise at the boy's behavior.

Dumbledore was rubbing the bridge of his nose, wondering how thing could have escalated so much in a couple of sentences. He felt a little disappointed by his head of house. Sure the Grindelwald boy was being a little impertinent but it wasn't like he was wrong.

Snape, still in the background, had to repress a smirk at the sight Gryffindor Head of House upped by a first year. The boy would have done well in Slytherin seeing that he was smart, resourceful and capable of facing authority figures on a even ground.

Flitwick too was divided between reprieving the boy and admiring him for his resourcefulness. The boy knew how things worked inside and outside the school well enough to use that whole mess in his favor even if only to escape the fall out of that incident.

"Now listen here…"

"I believe I heard enough," he said cutting her off. "If that's all Headmaster it's rather late and I'd like to retire for the night. It has been an eventful evening."

Seeing the opportunity to defuse the situation the Headmaster nodded.

"Of course, Mr. Grindelwald. You too Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger. Please return to your dorms. You all know the way from here?" They all nodded. "Very good then. Off to bed you three."

Alex and Hermione left first and when Herwald was about to exit McGonagall spoke again.

"Mr. Grindelwald," she called. Her voice dangerously calm. "I'll be keeping a close eye on you from now on. Make sure not to step out of the line."

Herwald merely paid her notice and answered back with a sideway glance.

"That works both ways, Professor McGonagall. See that I don't have to do your job anymore, least you don't want to find yourself lacking one."

He closed the door behind him, uncaring of the mayhem that exploded in the room behind him. Honestly he already had done too much of other people's work to care about how they would deal the issue among them. His threats were solid, seeing as the blame of the incident fell completely oh their shoulder. There was no way anyone would challenge him on the issue anymore, lest they didn't want to raise one even bigger.

McGonagall wouldn't be warming up to him anytime soon unless he'd cast an _Incendio_ at her. It's not like she was wrong, they did break the rules, but she didn't have to be a bitch about it. _'Bright side,' _he thought as he reached the bottom of the stairs where Alex and Hermione were waiting for him to join them, _'I might have actually gained a couple of friends out of this whole mess.'_

He didn't yet know how right he was.

-oOo-

Author Note:

So here goes another chapter. Things are developing slowly between Herwald and the rest of the school

Next chapter we'll see more of his interaction with the rest of the student body as the new of the Troll incident spreads within the school. Will McGonagall make things harder for our hero? She will certainly try. Don't hate she has her very personal reasons that will be explained later on.

I'm still looking for a beta. Anyone interested?

Gakin: English is not my main language and it's mostly self-taught. I wanted to contact you via PM but you disabled them. Enable it and I'll write you.

Thanks for all the review. They are much appreciated.

Bye.


	12. Confrontations

**Confrontations**

* * *

Herwald woke up with a start, a silent scream dying in his throat, his forehead damped with sweat.

The nightmares returned as they did every year on Halloween. He didn't know why they did or what he dreamt about. It was all tremendously foggy. The only thing he could remember was the muffled voice of a woman followed by a green light that reminded him too much of the colors of the killing curse. He was no fool, patching together what the hag had told him about the night she found him, he had very little doubt that whatever it was that was haunting him on that specific night was somehow related to the event that had brought him to show up in a blast of magical energy in a forest in the middle of Germany.

Try as he might, even with the employment of Legimency and Occlumency he couldn't manage to retrieve those memories. They lingered in his subconscious taunting him, tormenting him with a sickening regularity. Unable to sleep he stood up looking at his surroundings.

The rooms in the Ravenclaw tower where made to house two students each but not surprisingly Herwald found himself without a roommate for the very same reason he usually lacked a partner in class. Padma was the only exception to his house shunning but even she had to interact with other students. There was no reason for her to become a pariah for his sake. They were friends, or so Herwald like to believe, but that was so more the reason for him to push her to socialize more with the rest of the House. Granted things weren't as bad as they could have been, thanks in no small part to his outstanding academicals results and his flawless behavior in class. Still most of his peers shunned him if not outright feared him while the older students had very little interest in him altogether.

Sitting over the covers of his bed he crossed his legs and began clearing his mind. It was part of his Occlumency training to review the day occurrences before sleeping, but the events of the past evening had cut short on his time to work on the mind art. Now that he had managed to rest a little, and with the knowledge that he could no longer fall asleep even if he tried, he began replaying the events of the day, sorting every tidbit of knowledge in its designed place, examining every little detail that he might have missed the first time around. There was something there, just beyond the borders of his conscious perception that eluded him, something that didn't look quite right. It took him a moment to find it but finally he saw it.

Quirinus Quirell. The stuttering professor of Defense against the Dark Arts. With a nudge of his mind he recalled all the memories related to the man in question and watched them over and over. The man attitude was a joke for someone that should have taught his students how to defend themselves against dangers of all kinds. The man seemed genuinely scared of his own shadow. Keyword being seemed.

Putting together the pieces Herwald finally noticed. The few time the man had bothered to show defensive or offensive spells in class, instead of writing stuff on the board or reading verbatim from a book, he showed a fluidity of movements that didn't belong with such a fearful individual. There was smoothness in his wandwork and with the way he stepped to perform a spell that spoke of long experience on the battlefield.

Herwald had seen people move like that from time to time. They were Hitwizards, the top of the top, hired to protect this or that political figure in one of those many events he had participated in. It wouldn't be worth noticing if it didn't clash with the DaDA professor outward behavior. Something didn't add up with the man, that much was clear. Furthermore there was that turban he always wore. It was an odd piece of clothing but there were odder things in the Wizarding World, yet Herwald believed that there was something more behind it. The way Quirell had fainted forward that evening was not only ridiculous, since the human body wasn't made to fall that way unless it carried a forward momentum, but it seemed extremely theatrical and more than anything else aimed to shield the back of his head from impact.

Many little pieces, seemingly unconnected dots, were beginning to form a picture which outline still eluded the boy. For the time being he resolved to keep a more attentive eye on the professor in the hope to discern the cause of his suspicious behavior. There was something going on at Hogwarts and Quirell was undoubtedly part of it.

Knowing that there was nothing else he could find inside his head on that subject, Herwald returned to other topics and reviewed what he had studied that day in class. Occlumency was a very useful thing when it came to learning faster and the months he had invested to learn the art finally begun to pay off. It was a shame that it wasn't taught to all children below school age, but he understood that no normal kid had the drive, the reason and the resolve to obtain a skill that only the most advanced wizards and witches bothered to learn late in their lives. Oh well, their losses, his gain.

* * *

Daphne Greengrass, age eleven, grew up in an environment where proper conduct was paramount. Being the eldest daughter of the Greengrass family she had a conduct and appearances to uphold. Being detached yet inquisitive of her surrounding was part of the job, and she was very good at it. There was very little doubt that she was to be sorted into Slytherin. Her analytical mind always knew how to exploit a situation to her advantage if need be, or how to run damage control when the situation was beyond recovery. To do such a thing being informed was the first priority and gossips, albeit not so reliable, was information.

The Great Hall was in an uproar when she and her friend Tracey Davis walked in. The Troll incident was on everyone lips and that included the people involved in it. The Muggleborn Granger that was missing during the feast was at her table, sitting right beside Alex Potter, the boy that the previous evening had run to her rescue along with the Grindelwald Heir.

Potter and Grindelwald. The two boys were interesting to say the least. The first was not how she thought he would be. He was humble and usually soft-spoken, certainly not the image of arrogance Malfoy kept picturing in his numerous rant about him, and certainly not as arrogant as the hailed savior of the Wizarding World could get away with. The fact that he kept giving Grindelwald all the credit for rescuing Granger, while the rest of his House insisted that he was downplaying his own role, was another point in his favor.

The second boy, Herwald Grindelwald was again another surprise. For the Scion of a family that didn't hide their Dark affiliation, and still kept the reins of a big portion of the politic and economy in Europe, he was definitely not what she would have pictured him to be. He wasn't humble in the slightest, but neither had he boasted his own accomplishments with arrogance. He was academically successful, maybe even a prodigy, followed shortly by her, the Ravenclaw's Patil and the Granger girl. With his background she would have depicted him as resentful and even verbally if not physically aggressive. He was of course nothing like that. He was reserved, graceful, and respectful to everybody regardless of Blood status or House affiliation. A true Scion of an Ancient and Noble family but nothing like he should have been for a boy that grew in a Dark and hated environment.

Furthermore there was the running gossip of how he supposedly controlled and bent the Troll to his will. Of course, two persons after the original source of the information, Alex Potter and Hermione Granger themselves, facts had already turned into tales. And dark ones at that. By the time the _information _travelled to the Slytherin table Grindelwald was already thought responsible of the whole incident, seeing that he could control and speak with Trolls. It was supposedly part of his plan for taking over the castle, and from there wage war to Magical Britain as a whole.

"No good deed goes unpunished," she said as she approached the raven haired boy in question, sitting by himself at the Ravenclaw table. The rift between him and his housemate had doubled in size since the previous evening, and the Patil girl that usually sat with him was not in the Great Hall in that moment.

"Hm? Oh, good morning Ms. Greengrass. I'm not sure what you are talking about," he said politely. He hadn't paid any notice to the increased distance between him and the rest of his House.

"I'm referring about the poor treatment you receive from your own housemates. There is Potter doing his best to depict you like a hero and a few meters away from him his words are twisted against you. Doesn't it bother you?"

"Not really," he answered motioning her to sit beside him. She silently complied disregarding the disdainful look the other Ravens kept shooting her. "I hardly take notice of these things. It's beneath me to worry about these sheep opinion. It's their loss if they don't want to associate with me and definitely my gain. I won't waste my time with such narrow-minded and prejudiced people. The best I could get out of it would be a minor annoyance. I was telling the same thing to Mr. Potter some time ago. A bad reputation is actually helpful to keep worthless individual at a distance."

Daphne actually had to fight the urge to smirk. "I think I can relate, but I have friends and my House to back me up when the whole 'Slytherin are Dark' venom is spat around by the other Houses. Isn't it difficult to deal with this all by yourself?"

Herwald did not fight his smirk. "I'm hardly by myself, Ms. Greengrass. I simply do not advertize my associations, seeing that doing so would only damage my friend's standing in their Houses. Your concern, however, is appreciated." Daphne didn't spoke out of concern of course, but to sate her own curiosity. She had very little doubt that Potter's version of the events was true or at least extremely close to actual facts, but she wanted to probe the other boy about it. Her very first statement was a trial itself, and much like predicted Grindelwald had neither dismissed nor acknowledge her implications about his heroism. It definitely wasn't humbleness rather a unique way not to unbalance himself. Fame and glory were feeble things and could quite easily come back and stab their owner in the back. Useless boasting was purposeless and potentially damaging, whereas feeding an aura of mystery around him kept people on their toes.

There was only thing that was clear for everyone: Herwald Grindelwald was both resourceful and skilled. All the rest was a matter of opinions. He was letting other people define themselves instead of pointlessly struggling to be acknowledged and accepted. It was a cunning and ambitious plan that required intelligence, courage and a great deal of self confidence.

Daphne had to admit it to herself. With just a few sentences in the span of a couple of months the boy had gained a decent amount of her respect, and even some her admiration. Not a small feat when it came to Daphne Greengrass. She would keep a close eye on him. There was much that could be gained by associating with him and very little to lose in terms of reputation. For a Slytherin anyway.

They ate breakfast together at the Ravenclaw table, chatting about the past two months of school and exchanging opinions on the various subjects.

* * *

That afternoon after classes Herwald went to the Hospital Wing to be examined by the School Nurse. According to Professor Flitwick there could have been something wrong with his magic behind his inability to cast proper charms.

After the routine questions about his health she proceeded to cast several charms and wrote the results on a piece of parchment.

"Oh, my," she exclaimed after cross referencing the results with a few medical tomes from her library. "This is most interesting." Herwald cocked an eyebrow at her, silently prompting her to disclose what she was finding interesting about his health. "Mr. Grindelwald you seem to be suffering from a very rare case of Magical Over-frequency."

"I'm afraid that I'm not familiar with the term, Madam Pomfrey."

"Of course you aren't. It's an extremely rare disorder. Nothing to worry about I assure you," she sat on a stool beside his bed. "As very few people know outside of the medical department, a person's magic fluctuates, for a lack of better terms, at a set frequency that is the same for almost everyone. There are however few cases where a person magic has a higher or lower frequency. Extremely rare cases."

"Will that be a problem? Beside my use of charms I mean."

"No, no. Not at all. It's something that usually disappears with age and doesn't leave any damage. In fact it only noticeable trait is to give problem when casting charms."

"Why is that?" He inquired.

"You see, when you charm an object you permeate it with your magic to perform an action. Due to the higher frequency of you magic the enchanted item will, well, over-perform," the nurse explained. "You might want to tone down the amount of intent when you cast a spell."

"The amount of intent?" He asked furrowing his eyebrows. "Not the amount of magic?"

"No. Magical Over-frequency is not related to Magical Power or Magical Potential. It's strictly connected to the Will behind the spell and not the amount of magic."

"So.. I need to lay back when I'm casting. That… might be difficult."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"I am a… very focused and driven individual. Holding my magic back would simply require to me to Will it to do so, tuning down my Will instead is something against my own nature."

The nurse sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "While that might be considered a wonderful attitude Mr. Grindelwald, I need to remind you that you are still a child. I'm aware that your family name his giving you a hard time, but I must distress the importance for you to engage in other activities with your schoolmates beside magic and school work."

"Meaning?"

"Go out and play, Mr. Grindelwald. Be a child. Slack off from time to time, go out for a walk, play Exploding Snaps, Wizard Chess or whatever else might cross your mind. Just engage in non-productive activities and your problem will recede by itself."

"Isn't there a potion or something I could take to…."he tried.

"No."

"A spell I could…"

"No."

"A ritual…"

"Does being a child bother you so much, Mr. Grindelwald?" she asked leaning forward

"Extremely so, Madam Pomfrey," he answered narrowing his eyes at her.

Silence fell between them. The nurse wanted to ask but didn't dare to do so. It was beyond her duty and her right to ask him to elaborate his statement. She was a healer not a counselor. Those kind of issues belonged with the boy's family and by proxy to his Head of House. She would ask Filius to talk with the boy later.

"If that is all, Madam. I believe I have something to do."

"Of course. I cannot force you to change your way of living, but you might consider this issue as a sign from your body to correct you behavior. Forcing your magic to do your bidding won't work in this case."

Herwald didn't reply and left the wing after politely thanking her. The nurse watched him go, wondering exactly what might be driving a boy so hard to the point of forgetting how to be a kid.

* * *

Herwald closed the door of the Hospital Wing behind him as he left, pondering the nurse's words in his head. He knew that she had a point. He never allowed himself to be just a kid. As far as he could remember he always struggled for survival and when he had been adopted he devoted himself to fulfill his role as Scion of Grindelwald. Games were not on his priority list and even when he was with Leda they hardly played together. In fact more often than not they passed their time either learning Pureblood etiquette or studying magic.

He knew that he had a distorted childhood compared to almost anybody else but he had no intention to rectify that. He had willingly cast away his right to be a kid when he accepted the adoption.

Still, the issue was troublesome. He accepted nothing but the best from himself, but now he apparently had to slow down in order to achieve his potential. It was kind of ironic when he thought about it that way. That just went to show that for all his talents he still was a human being, and a kid at that.

Yes, perhaps having some distraction would prove the best thing in the long run.

* * *

Not being one to waste time even when it came to taking it easy, Herwald approached his intended targets that very evening at the Gryffindor table, bravely ignoring the dirty looks the Lions shoot him as he walked there.

"Mr. Potter," he called. The boy turned in his direction.

"Grindelwald… Herwald," he corrected. "What's up?"

"I was thinking... are you up for a game of Wizard Chess after dinner?"

Taken aback by this extremely normal request by the extremely odd boy, Alex took some time to answer.

"Uh. Sure. Here in the Great Hall?"

"That would be fine thanks. You are of course invited too Ms. Granger," he nodded politely in her direction.

"Really?" Hermione asked, surprised of being involved in anything that wasn't school related. "I mean sure. Just stop calling me Miss Granger. My friends call me Hermione. If you uh… If you want to be my friend that is."

"Absolutely Hermione. Will you join me at the Ravenclaw table? I don't think my presence here would be welcome," he said looking at the Gryffindor that kept glaring at him.

"NO WAY!" Ron Weasley shot up from his seat shouting. "Are you guys crazy? Hanging around this scum? Are you out of your mind?" The rest of the Gryffindor seemed to agree with him but wisely kept silent. Alex had made very clear that he didn't like groundless slandering.

"For your information, Weasley," Hermione of all people began, "Herwald had been a better friend to me in the little time I've spent with him than you in two months. Never mind the fact that he was the one to come to help me last night when the rest of my house preferred to scurry to safety. So yes, I'm definitely going to spend my time with him."

"I always knew you were mental. Tell her Alex. He's going to do Merlin knows what as soon as she drops her guard. She's halfway there already."

Alex looked at his friend like he had grown a second head. "Ron, what are you talking about? Why would he do anything to her after saving her from a Troll?"

"Oh, no," Ron sighed. "Don't tell me you really believe the crap. Saving her from the Troll. As if."

"Mate… I was there," Alex pointed out with a tinge of annoyance.

"Yeah? So what? Can you tell me exactly what he said to the Troll? No. We only have his word about it. For all we know he can be the one who let the thing inside the castle in the first place."

Silence. No one of those who heard the exchange said anything. Not even Herwald who looked more amused than anything else. Alex on the other hand had something to say.

"That's enough Ron. There is no reason to accuse Herwald of doing that. He was here in the Hall when the Troll was found. He couldn't possibly be the one responsible for letting it inside. Apologize."

"Like hell I will," He said with a growl. "Can't you see that he's playing you all for fools? Am I the only one that sees something wrong here? A Troll loose in the castle and the only person that, oh, so conveniently knows how to speak with them is the Scion of a Dark family? Hellooo!"

"Ronald I warn you…" Alex began but was soon interrupted by Herwald.

"Alex, please. There is no reason for you to fight over this. Mr. Weasley here actually rises a few good points. I would be absolutely capable of leading a Troll inside the castle. It doesn't take a lot of convincing. The promise of food is good enough to accomplish that."

Herwald statement was welcomed with a loud chatter. Wasn't he supposed to deny the accusation?

"But you where here when…" Alex protested.

"I was. So what? Doesn't take much to make the Troll hide for a while. I could have make it sleep in an unused classroom with the use of a simply potion. It's not that difficult." The audience couldn't tell exactly tell what was going on anymore. Was Grindelwald actually admitting of being the one behind the incident? That felt more than a little counter-intuitive. Even Ron didn't know how the take that admission but finally settled for a smug smirk.

"So it was you. I knew it," he said before turning to Alex and Hermione. "Told ya so. He's the one who did it."

"No, I'm not," Herwald stated plainly.

"Wh- You just admitted it," Ron nearly shouted.

"No, I didn't. I only said that I _could_ have done it. And how do you know that I'm only one in the school that can speak with Trolls? I'm just the only one you know about. It hardly makes me responsible for it, but I agree that it makes me a potential suspect. Please do investigate the matter. The staff is already doing so. Certainly Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of our age will not be outsmarted or deceived by a mere first year. If I was one the responsible for this incident I certainly wouldn't be this relaxed. And besides, what sort of idiot should I be to try something like this without anything to gain, under the watchful eye of the Headmaster and Chief Warlock?"

Those were very good points that couldn't be denied by anyone. Ron's brain was working overtime to find a counter to what he just said. "I…," he began weakly only to be interrupted by Herwald.

"Let me indulge you for the sake of argument. Let us stick us to what we know for the time being, shall we? Yesterday evening a Troll was loose in the castle and a student was missing and not aware of it. This fact was reported to a Prefect of her own house whose choice in the matter was to let things be as they were. This was overheard by the rest of her housemates and no one raised the slightest objection. Of course, you were all safe and sound. Why risk anything?" A minor sense of shame was spreading among the Gryffindors while Herwald pointed out the simple truth.

"It was up to me and Alex to deal with the situation. Do we all agree with those facts? Good. So, while we don't know if I'm responsible for the whole fiasco, we are sure that I've actually done something when I didn't have any obligation to do anything about it. No house affiliation, no Prefect duties, and I barely had a passing acquaintance with Miss G- Hermione before yesterday. The same couldn't be said with you. She is your housemate, one of your *_SNORT_* friends, and yet you have done NOTHING to help her," by that point the whole Hall was listening in, staff table included. The Slytherins were positively amused by the exchange.

"So maybe I'm a good guy, maybe I'm a bad guy. We don't know that yet. What we know though is that you all are a bunch of selfish cowards. So much for Gryffindor, the House of Lions. Perhaps it was better off as the House of Kittens. All talk and no action to back it up. It's hardly a wonder why Slytherin have been winning the House Cup for seven years straight, is it? They do speak very little, but tend to get things done." Voices of outrage from the table began rising at his insult but Herwald continued his speech unaffected.

"Next time, before any of you pathetic idiots takes the higher moral ground and judges me for the name I carry, look in the mirror and ask yourselves what you have done to consider yourselves better than me. The answer would be NOTHING and that is exactly what you all amount to. A minor, lousy, nuisance." Wands were drawn and pointed but a loud, thunder-like clap from the staff table drew everyone's attention.

"That's quite enough," Dumbledore voice spoke without a hint of his grandfatherly warmth. "Put those wands away. Mr. Weasley, yesterday incident has been investigated and nothing pointed out to Mr. Grindelwald as the culprit. Please do not spread groundless rumors."

"Yes Sir," came the weak reply of a flustered Ronald.

"Mr. Grindelwald please refrain from antagonizing and insulting other students," he said turning his attention the raven haired boy.

"I make no promises Headmaster. I call things like I see them. Unless you are asking me to lie."

"Of course not, Mr. Grindelwald, I misspoke," he answered back a tad annoyed at the fact that the boy was challenging his authority, but clearly staying within the boundaries of a respectful conversation. "I was merely asking you to keep your more caustic opinion to yourself."

"Of course Headmaster," Herwald agreed politely. "I will do so in the same measure that the rest of my schoolmates do in my regards." Which was like saying that he wouldn't at all. Still the Headmaster couldn't quite tell him to suck it up and live with the mistreatments, and reining the whole school rumor mill wasn't feasible at all. He sat down with a sigh, feeling a headache coming already. It was going to be one of those weeks.

"Very well, Mr. Grindelwald. Run along."

Herwald nodded and addressed his friends again. "My invitation still stands Hermione, Alex."

"We'll be there," Alex answered and Herwald walked back to his table after giving a nod of acceptance.

-oOo-

"Will you ever cease to impress me?" Padma asked as she joined him for dinner.

"You flatter me. I hardly did something worth of notice," he pointed out.

"I disagree. It takes a spine to turn the table in your favor like you did and insult a whole House at the same time."

"I resent that," he said in mock hurt. "I did not insult any House. They are smearing its name with their behavior. I just pointed it out."

"Still. You turned the accusers into the accused. That's quite a feat. I can swear, by the end of your speech, Weasley wanted to disappear into the ground. And I won't even mention Granger."

"You just did. What about her?"

"You didn't notice? The way she kept staring? She got the hots for you," she said with a smirk.

"Riiight. And here I thought you sister was the gossip queen."

"Hush. Gossip it's the inaccurate repetition of what once was firsthand information. I only talk about what I saw firsthand."

"And what exactly makes you think that she has any interest in me."

"Oh, I don't know. The way she looked at you as you debated you way out of that mess was quite a give away, but it wouldn't mean anything without the background story."

"Which… is?" He asked amused by the exchange.

"Oh, a young heir of a despised family takes up the mantle of the hero, rescues the damsel in distress from the clutches of a foul beast and then confronts the wannabe knights that didn't do anything. I can see the majority of the girls in this school fall for that one. Especially if that boy was the only one that didn't make fun of me for being a bookworm."

"… I don't think that being the heir of a Dark family helps in the romance department," Herwald pointed out.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. They might give you a hard time, but girls dig the mysterious, dark and potentially bad guys. It's how we work."

"What's with plural? Do you dig the bad guys as well?"

"Maybe," she replied with a hint of blush that went unnoticed on her dark skin. "But it's not me we are talking about here. It's Granger and I'm telling you she head over heels for you."

"How silly. She barely even knows me. At best it's just a passing crush that will go away with time."

"You keep telling yourself that, Herwald," she said with a knowing grin.

"Whatever. Say, do you want to join us after dinner?"

"Really? Engaging in non-productive activities now Herwald? I thought you were all about books and no fun," Padma joked, but the humor went right over his head.

"Healer's order. Apparently I need to lay back a little if I want my charms not to explode in my face."

"Seriously?" She asked stunned by his serious answer. "You've got to be the only guy I know that can improve in a school by _not_ applying himself. Any other surprises in store for me?"

"Hm. Not that I can think about right now, but make sure to stick around though. I'm sure I can find something before the evening's over."

* * *

Like promised, around an hour later, Hermione and Alex joined Herwald and Padma at the Ravenclaw table for a couple of games of Wizard Chess. Alex was playing against Herwald while the girls chatted.

"You know," Alex began as he took yet another piece from Herwald "I didn't exactly like what you said about my House earlier."

"I didn't expect you would," Herwald answered back. "Check."

"Damn!" Alex moved his king away. "You were right though. Most of my housemates have been acting like self righteous gits for a long time now."

"Hm. Glad you see it my way too. Check."

"Not again? There!" Alex exclaimed as he moved his king away again. "Yeah. I can't believe how much most of them resemble the Slytherins they always complain about. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black."

"Indeed. What are you going to do about it? Are you going to do something about it at all? Oh, check."

"Damn you…" this time he placed his rook in the way of the offending piece. "What am I supposed to do? Bash some sense into their skulls?"

"Don't ask me. It's your House. Although for what I have seen so far, that might actually be the most effective way to have some semblance of result. Checkmate."

"Damm it, Herwald. This is the third time in a row you beat me. You are worse than Ron."

"Now, now. I didn't get that personal with my insults before."

"Watch it, Herwald," Alex said sounding annoyed, but the smirk at the corner of his mouth downplayed it. "He might be a git, but he's still my friend."

"He might be your friend, but he's still a git," Herwald countered.

"Right. Point taken. Let's just drop it, all right. I'm going to have a long talk with him tomorrow. Hopefully he'll understand that he can't just judge people from their Houses or their families."

"Eh," Herwald scoffed." That would be a first, but strangest things have happened. I… just won't hold my breath on it. You don't mind, do you? Your friend looks a little… thickheaded."

Alex really wanted to be angry at him, but he couldn't muster enough motivation to do that. "He isn't that bad. He's just a little stubborn, but he means well."

"I'll take your word on it. Another game?"

"Not bloody likely. I've already met my quota of crushing defeats this week." They both laughed.

"What do you know? Here's a guy that actually knows his chances. Will wonders ever cease?"

"Har, Har Herwald."

It was amazing how the two teens that barely knew each other fell into an easygoing friendship.

A few feet away from there, Padma smiled as she watched Hermione drift off from the casual conversation with her to steal glances at a laughing Herwald. With a snap of her fingers Hermione attention was jolted back to her.

"So.. you and Herwald, uh," Padma smirked at her new friend.

"Uh. What? What about Herwald and me?" She played it ignorant, but with a little too much emphasis.

"Like it wasn't obvious. Come on only someone blind or a boy wouldn't notice how you look at him."

"I… I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't. And you also have no idea why you are blushing like a tomato."

"I… I…" Hermione sputtered unintelligibly.

"Don't give yourself a stroke Herms. It's not a bad thing having a crush on a boy."

Hermione huffed and hid her face in her hands. "Am I that easy to read?"

"Nah. I'm just that good at reading people, and let's admit it, you three have been at the center of the attention in the past few hours."

"Ugh. Promise me you won't tell him anything. I barely even know him."

"Err.. it might be a little late for that," she said apologetically, "I might have accidentally told him my suspicions on your feeling for him earlier today."

It was all Hermione could do not to shriek as her head snapped up. "You told him? What did he say?"

"Oh, something along the lines of barely knowing you. Basically he dismissed it like nonsense."

"Thank goodness. I don't know what I would have done if he believed you."

"Why? Fear of being rejected?"

"What? No I… Yes I mean but not only that… Promise me you won't laugh." At Padma affirmative response she continued. "I never had any friends before coming to Hogwarts. Between being a bookworm and the occasional bout of accidental magic people kept me at arm's length, and the few that approached me either needed help with their homework or just wanted to make fun of me." She swallowed thickly before continuing. "When I found out I was a witch I thought that by coming here, where everybody else was like me, I wouldn't be alone anymore but…"

"But things haven't changed that much, have they?" Padma finished for her. Hermione confirmed with a nod.

"Herwald was… the first person to be nice to me. I mean he's courteous to everyone but he was _nice_ to me, and yesterday night he showed that it wasn't just, you know, something that he does to be polite. He actually is nice."

"Yes, well he can be nice if he wants, but I don't get where this is going."

"I mean. He's the first person to do something for me without having anything to gain. It's not strange if I have this crush on him, isn't it? But, come on, we are eleven. I don't want to alienate my first friend just because I have a rescued damsel syndrome."

Padma blinked. "Wow, you've got this crush since what, yesterday night and you have thought about all of this stuff already? No wonder you're having such a difficult time in Gryffindor with that overactive brain of yours. Not that it doesn't make sense mind you but… just relax and go with the flow."

"I would have gone with the flow if a certain someone didn't let her mouth run wild and was a bit considerate of my feelings," Hermione said with just a hint of anger.

"Whoops. My bad" Padma apologized without any real feeling behind it.

"Sigh. It's all right. At least now I know that he isn't grossed by the idea of me crushing over him. It's a start."

"Yes that's good. Oh look the boys seem to have finished. Shall we join them?"

"Yes that would be best."

They rejoined the Alex and Herwald and played a few games of chess against each other before calling it a day and returning to their respective dorms.

"You were right," Herwald said to Padma as they walked to the Ravenclaw's Tower.

"Hm? About what?"

"Hermione. She really has a crush on me."

A cold feeling run upon Padma spine. Had her running mouth ruined Herwald and Hermione's friendship?

"Ah. Uhm. So?"

"She also doesn't seem to let it get in her way of our friendship which is good. I wouldn't know how to handle a crushing girl. Thank Merlin she's smarter than that."

"Oh. Well that's good right?" She asked with relief in her voice, a particular that didn't pass unnoticed to the raven haired teen.

"You were worried about it, weren't you? Let me guess... you confronted her on her feelings earlier right?"

"We... might have had a passing conversation about it, yes."

"Which is to say you've discussed the topic to great lengths," Herwald commented. "Has she reached any conclusion?"

"I... I shouldn't be the one to talk you about that," Padma tried to dig her way out.

"Too late. You've lost the right to neutrality when you let your mouth run off with me. Now spill."

"Sigh. Well she basically said that she doesn't want to jeopardize this new friendship and that her crush might be caused by the fact that she felt lonely and that you've rescued which is, like I said before, a major points earner in any girl's book."

A small breath of relief escaped Herwald's mouth. "That's good. She's smart like it thought she was."

"Does it bother you so much that Hermione has a thing for you? Don't you like her?"

"No, I don't. Not like that. I just barely know her. She's smart. Smarter than most anyway, which is more than enough for me to try and get to know her better, but that's it. How can an eleven years old boy even contemplate to date a girl anyway? Give me a break."

A smirk formed on Padma's lips. "Wow, Herwald. This has to be the first time in over two months that you don't know how to deal with something. I was starting to believe you aren't human."

"Well excuse me if I'm not omniscient. Besides the only girl I spent extended periods of time with his my si-cousin. I actually had thought I wouldn't have to deal with this sort of stuff until much later in life," Herwald paused for a moment at those words. "Then again I had never imagined I would have to rescue a girl from a Troll inside my school either."

"Well life's like that, Mister." Padma pointed out. "Full of surprises."

"Please tell me that these so called surprises aren't going to be either lethal creatures or crushing girls."

"Nah. That's probably a once in a lifetime thing."

"Oh good. I would seriously reconsider my chances of getting out of school alive if it wasn't," Herwald said with fake relief.

"Ah. What did you expect? To save a girl's life every year?"

"Yeah. That would be pretty ridiculous, wouldn't it?"

They both laughed, enjoying how the semi-serious conversation had turned. Yet Herwald couldn't shake off the feeling of having just walked over his own grave. Like those words had just stirred a mean streak in Fate's plans for him.

It took him a while but he finally shrugged off the ominou

* * *

**Author Notes**

So, here I am back from my long absence. I could give you a nice set of excuses for the late update but they would be only just that. Excuses. The actual reason for not updating anything in the last few weeks is a total lack in will to write. Simple as that.

**A few note:** This chapter is un-beta-ed . This is a personal choice since I don't want to wait for my beta readers to go over the chapter (it can take many days) before posting it. Every chapter will be corrected at a later time and then re-uploaded.

**About this chapter:**

Hermione is crushing on Herwald, which is quite normal given Hermione circumstances, but for the happiness of the H/Hr haters they will not be a couple (it's a Harry/Multi anyway) for a long time if ever. Herwald is eleven and he still has issues with what had happened in his youth. He isn't as traumatized as any other child with the same kind of abuse history, seeing that his childhood had been different from most anyway, and the Occlumency training is akin to counseling in a certain sense. However he still has some issues with physical contacts with strangers.

There shouldn't be any pairing until third/fourth year, when Herwald will have reached a greater maturity and a better balance with his past.

That's all for now. As usual I'm looking forward to your reviews. Till next time.


	13. Draco's Dilemma

**Chapter 11 - Draco's Dilemma**

* * *

"Hagrid? You mean the Grounds Keeper?" Herwald asked to the bushy haired Gryffindor.

"Yes. He has invited Alex, Ron and me to have a tea with him today. Alex asked me to pass you the invitation should you want to join us," Hermione explained as she sat in front of him in the library.

"I'd like that, but why? I don't think he would invite me out of the blue. In fact I could bet he doesn't even know me."

"Yes, that's true, but he said to bring friends with us if so he wanted to sooo …," she trailed somewhat embarrassed. Herwald smiled at her.

"So since we are friends you extended the invitation to me. Thank you, Hermione."

The girl simply muttered a 'you're a welcome' before burying her head in the stack of book she had brought along. Herwald looked at her, divided between being touched and being angry.

After the Troll incident Hermione, Alex and Herwald began hanging out together, usually in the library to compare assignment and notes. The difference in schedule and Herwald's reputation didn't make easy socializing with the Gryffindors. They still spent at least a small portion of the day together even if only a handful of minutes. Hermione, with her tendency to pass every waking hour inside the library made the process a lot easier.

Herwald soon found out that Hermione kwow-it-all attitude made her quite the outcast in her own House. A situation that was old news according to the bushy haired witch, since her experience in primary school was pretty much the same. She was therefore unused to the concept of friends outside the circle of those who wanted to take advantage of her academic skills.

When Herwald told her he didn't mind, no, looked forward to be her friend she almost burst out crying. Not only the boy went out of his way to help her with the Troll, but he actually wanted to be her friend. His academic results excluded any suspicion of a hidden purpose of his words.

Of course it didn't take long for her to realize that Herwald situation was pretty much the same has hers albeit for a completely different reason.

Alex Potter too, after learning of her situation in their House wowed to know her better and be a friend to her, although his friendships with Ronald Weasley got in the way more than once. Not only the redhead never apologized for what he said to Hermione, but he also made it quite clear that he didn't want to have anything to do with the Scion of Grindelwald.

Herwald was hardly displeased by that. Alex on the other hand was pretty miffed about it, and while he couldn't hope to change the other boy mind, he made it clear that he expected him to be civil to Herwald and Hermione. The boy sulked and stormed off, but ultimately didn't object.

The few times he and Herwald had met, alone or with the others, they exchanged greetings but never spoke a word to each other beside that. The raven haired boy could live with that.

His friendship with Hermione was solidified further but their common academic interests. In fact. Although Ravenclaw and Gryffindor run on different schedules, assignment where quite the same. Working at together made it easier for them to finish earlier and engage in different personal researches.

Hermione was extremely interested in History of Magic, the only topic Hogwarts actually let her down. Herwald on the other hand was an endless well of information and also a much better orator than Binns could ever hope to be with that monotone voice of his.

Herwald was happy to have finally found somebody who shared his passion for History even if her reasons where different from his. The boy took the opportunity to teach her something about Wizarding etiquette, often mistakenly called Pureblood etiquette. He quickly understood why the girl had been sorted into Gryffindor. For all her intelligence she was way too eager to jump in defense of something even without knowing the full background behind a certain situation.

Boy, when she had learned about House Elves and their usual treatment she was about to start a crusade and bring war all the way to the Headmaster Office despite her clearly being deferent to authority figures. It took the boy quite some time to explain her why House Elves needed to bond with a Wizard family to feed on their magic. He then kindly redirected her effort in promoting a more humane treatment of the little creatures rather than freeing them altogether. It certainly wasn't something an eleven year old could hope to accomplish anytime soon or even by herself, but with the correct knowledge on the matter and with Herwald lessons on history and etiquette she actually had the chance to be listened outside the circle of the interested Muggleborns. If she addressed the audience right she couldn't be dismissed simply as an ignorant Muggleborn, although that alone didn't grant her any successes in her future endeavors.

Two hours later they shut their books, stuffed them in their bags along with their quills and parchments, and headed to the Great Doors where Alex and Ron where waiting for them.

"Oh, Herwald, Hermione," Alex greeted as the two students walked his way.

"Alex, Weasley," Herwald greeted both with a nod of his head.

"The two of you are spending an awful amount of time together," Alex noted with mischief in his eyes, "Just the two of you, in the silent, dusty library. Something you wish to tell us?"

"Alex!" Hermione screeched in indignation but she still stole a glance at his study partner, something that he didn't miss.

"The library is hardly ever empty, Alex. And I think I'm a little too young to even consider the idea of dating yet," he said. Then considering Hermione self-esteem he added "But maybe we ARE dating. What is it to you? Are you jealous?"

"W-w-what? No I…" Alex stuttered.

"Cause I could totally understand if you were. I mean, what's there not to like? She's smart, kind and she show promise to go from cute to gorgeous within time. Hardly an average girl wouldn't you agree?"

"I-I-I…" Alex kept stuttering at loss for words. People who are accused to be a couple would often go in denial even if they weren't dating at all. That was what his father had taught him. A boy and a girl together is foolproof teasing material. How come that he was the one on the defensive now? On the other hand Herwald had learned that challenging someone on his opponent chosen battlefield was usually unexpected. Thus he was more than willing to turn Alex words against him.

Meanwhile Hermione was discovering new level of embarrassment. Flattered, yes, but embarrassed nonetheless. The blood rushing to her face threatened to cause a fever but finally subsided when the discussion was ended by an irate Ron Weasley.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Are we going to stay here all day or what? Cause I'm starving. If you are going to stay some more, I'm just going and visit Hagrid by myself." And without waiting for an answer he stormed off, leaving behind three perplexed teens.

"What's wrong with him?" Hermione asked, more than happy to switch the conversation to other, safer subjects.

"Er… I guess he's still upset about you being with us Herwald. No offense," Alex explained.

"None taken," he answered coolly. "I can hardly blame you for other peoples' opinions." He actually wanted to say _idiots_ but he knew that it wouldn't win him any sympathy from his new friends, although he couldn't picture them actively reprising him for his choice of words if he did. Ron Weasley had issues, not only his narrow-mindedness but also, from what he managed to gather from the little things Alex had told him, a serious inferiority complex with his brothers. Herwald supposed that talking down a Troll might have put him on a pedestal in the eye of the redhead boy. A pedestal he would have like to occupy himself.

'_Though luck, Ronald Weasley_,' Herwald thought as he watched the other boy's retreating back. _'You were given more from life than many other ever did. Friends, family, food. You need to learn to cherish what you have before wanting for more.'_

He mentally shrugged from that line of thought. The boy wasn't worth his time. _'Ah, well there's a downside to every upside. If Weasley is what I have to suffer fort his newfound friendship I can carry the burden easily. One more idiot in my life… how bad could that be?'_

* * *

Hagrid welcomed the group with his usual warmness. Introductions were made and the Ground Keeper was happy to see that Harry treated him with a great deal of respect.

Actually it wasn't anything outside of the ordinary, common politeness from a properly educated kid when addressing an adult. Still it was more than Hagrid ever received. Nobody had called him Mr. Hagrid since he had been expelled from Hogwarts many years prior. Even the students that socialized with him usually called him just Hagrid. It took him some effort to convince the boy to drop the formalities.

They enjoyed tea together as they chatted about their days at school. The Grounds Keeper was rather excited by Herwald knowledge about Trolls and asked if he could be taught who to speak Trollglish. It could be helpful when dealing with the big creatures that roamed the forest.

"Hey, Hagrid," Alex said after taking a sip of tea. "I was thinking about that break in Gringotts suffered some time ago… wasn't the vault the thief broke in the same you had emptied earlier that day? The one you retrieved that small package from? What was in there anyway?"

The Half Giant stiffened for a moment before answering.

"That's between Dumbledore and Mr. Flamel," he said with his grumbling voice then he realized he said too much and backpedaled. "I really shouldn't have said anything. Forget about it."

Hermione, Alex and Ron looked at each other. Obviously the subject had been discusses between them before and this was an unexpected piece of information. The more surprised of all however was Herwald. It took him a physical effort not to widen his eyes in surprise. His keen mind processed the Half-Giant words in the span of a second.

_Gringotts break in.  
Small Package.  
Dumbledore's and Flamel's package? Not in Gringotts anymore.  
Retrieved by Hagrid? Hogwarts' staff.  
Package in Hogwarts? Heavily secured door on the third floor most likely location.  
Content of the package? Precious? Dangerous? Both?  
Owner? Flamel… Nicholas. Alchemist. Renown for making…_

_Impossible! The Philosopher's Stone is here at Hogwarts? But why bring such a powerful and priceless artifact in a school full of children? Especially when someone is clearly after it. Someone skilled enough to break through Gringotts' security and get away with it. If the Goblins' wrath and potential reprisal wasn't enough to keep the thief away I highly doubt that Dumbledore's presence in the school will dissuade the culprit. The Headmaster is undoubtedly skilled but… Unless this is nothing but a trap to actually lure the thief here. But why? I can't imagine someone that's willing to go to such lengths as to steal from the Goblins tiptoeing around kids. Is this person's capture important enough to endanger most of the student's body?'_

Herwald knew that he had not enough information to figure out everything. He couldn't judge Headmaster's decision of jeopardizing his wards' safety until he knew more about the whole situation. Certainly if the thief was worth such a risk then it would be better to keep his eyes and ears open. After all, Herwald himself was one of the students whose well being was being put at risk and the fact didn't sit well with him.

They left Hagrid's hut soon after. The Gryffindors discussed the development among themselves. It didn't take a genius to understand that the mysterious package had been brought to Hogwarts even without knowing its content. From there putting the dots together and linking the Troll incident with the break in at Gringotts was a small leap.

Herwald kept to himself the nature of the package and its potential location. If the Headmaster had a plan spreading the information could be not only detrimental to Dumbledore's plan and even dangerous should such knowledge make them targets for the thief.

"I think we should keep our eyes open but otherwise stay out of the way," Herwald stated all of a sudden surprising the others. His long silence up to that point didn't pass unnoticed.

"What?" Alex asked "Why?"

"Think about it Alex. If the break in at Gringotts and the Troll incident are related than it's obvious that the thief is here at Hogwarts. Someone capable of slipping through the Goblins' defenses is certainly someone to be wary of. Besides the Headmaster is dealing with this matter himself. If we stick our nose where it doesn't belong we might endanger ourselves as well as making things more difficult for Professor Dumbledore."

"Herwald's right, Alex," Hermione piqued in. "The Headmaster knows what he's doing. We should stay out of it."

"No that would be even worse," Herwald counteracted.

"What? But you just said.."

"Look Hermione. If we kept ourselves completely out of this your meeting with the Troll wouldn't have ended as pleasantly as it did." He said and Hermione nodded at him. "Whatever's going on has already involved the student's body at this point. I'm sure that the Headmaster knows what he's doing, but not even he can grant the student safety as we have already seen. I'm not telling you to go pry into this business but make sure to keep your eyes and ears open for whatever strikes you as odd."

They all nodded. Even Ronald for all his dislike for Herwald had to acknowledge the solidity of his reasoning. Keeping his head low was something he could live with. After all he had no intention to see a Troll up close.

* * *

The following days passed without anything out of the ordinary. For an enchanted castle that is. Lessons, study sessions in the library and a few games between friends in the Great Hall. To Herwald's relief after a week of this new routing his charms started backfiring less. In fact his magic seemed to flow smoother through his body if he didn't push as hard as he used to do. His grades and overall proficiency hadn't suffered from it and thus he couldn't complain about the arrangement. Maybe being a kid wasn't so bad after all.

His mood was surprisingly bright. Not that he sulked or brooded but being chipper on a daily basis was not his cup of tea. Of course when higher than normal one should look out for eventual falls. Such fall manifested itself in the shape of a blonde headed ponce in green and silver.

"Grindelwald, wait up" a voice called him from behind. Herwald cursed inwardly. For over two months he had managed to dodge Draco Malfoy attempts to approach him. Apparently, now that he had something to look forward to he forgot about the things he had to look out for.

"Mr. Malfoy," Herwald greeted in an even tone. No need to let the prick know of much he disliked him if it didn't help getting rid of him faster. Beside their fathers did business together from time to time, thus making it somewhat a priority to stay on a friendly behavior with the blonde snake.

He was as usual surrounded by his goons Crabbe and Goyle. A prime example of what inbreeding can do to your cognitive abilities.

"Finally. I've been trying to talk with you since the first day but every time you disappeared as soon as class ended."

"I'm a busy person Mr. Malfoy. Time waits for no one and I have my duties as future Head of House to think about on top of my school work and personal researches. You should know something about it."

"Er... Yes of course. Being the Scion of a Noble and Ancient House can be a burden. I know everything about it," Draco flaunted. However the slight wavering of his voice clearly stated that he knew nothing on the subject. The Malfoy were neither Ancient nor Noble House after all.

"Then you should know my time is valuable," Herwald retorted. "What is that you needed to tell me that couldn't wait for an appropriate time? You could have approached me in the Great Hall like every other student."

"Ah yes, of course. However as you might know the Malfoys aren't very much like in Wizarding Britain. I didn't want to add to your… social plight by publicly associating with you."

Herwald's eyes narrowed at the Slytherin's words. Somehow he didn't believe him. In fact he would probably bet that it was the other way around. He didn't call him on it however. "Your… concern is appreciated Mr. Malfoy. However I still don't know what you needed of me."

"I just wanted to tell you… well… the people you are associating with aren't the kind of people you should keep close. There are… better wizards I could introduce you to. Purer wizard and witches."

Ah. So that's what it was. Herwald was mildly amused. On one side it was obvious that Draco was trying to force his social opinions on him. Which implied that he knew better than Herwald. On the other hand it looked like he was really trying to look out for him in probably the only way he knew. The blonde Slytherin was arrogant and conceited but he was also surprisingly honestly and straightforward on the subject. He could have ulterior motives of course but unless he was a brilliant actor his concern was genuine. Herwald couldn't begin to fathom why but he appreciated it nonetheless.

"Like I said, your concern is appreciated Mr. Malfoy. However I have no time to invest in social activities beyond what I already do. Furthermore, I'm afraid that the first requirement for associating with me is doing so publicly. If one can't stand the stigma of being pictured together with a Grindelwald then such person is not worth my time. After all, no matter how cunning one is there's always a price to pay in order to gain something. Please make sure to report this to any potential 'friend' you had in mind to introduce me. Keep it in mind yourself, Mr. Malfoy."

"I… will certainly do so. Thank you for your time Mr. Grindelwald."

Herwald nodded curtly and left, mulling over the conversation he just had. The Malfoy Scion had showed a new side from his last encounter two years prior. Perhaps there was still some potential for him to become a decent human being despite his upbringing. Perhaps he was worth the effort of putting up with his narrow-minded belief if in turn he was willing to sacrifice the little social standing he had out of his own house.

Regardless that was a thought for another time. He had given him an implicit invitation and until Draco decided to accept it there was nothing Herwald could or would do.

* * *

Draco watched Herwald turn a corner and sighed in relief. Herwald unnerved him to no end. Since the very first time they had met the raven haired wizard had stuck him for a man in a child skin. Draco couldn't pinpoint what was out of place in Grindelwald beside is grown up demeanor, but every time he looked at him in the eyes h shivered. There was something in those green orbs that looked deadly. He reminded him too much of the way his own father looked at his enemies. Cold. Distant. Uncaring. There was little doubt in Draco's mind that Grindelwald had what he needed to go far in life beyond his family riches and despite the cursed name he carried. That was probably the first reason he tried to approach him.

The second reason, as odd as it sounded, was because he was fairly sure that up to that point Herwald disliked him. Personally. This was a first in Draco's short life. Most people disliked if not outright hated Draco Malfoy, Son of Lucius. Very few bothered to dislike Draco for himself. Not that their opinion changed much after they got to know him but they still were prejudiced with him to begin with. Even the other kid his age that befriended him were after Malfoy first and Draco after.

Perhaps if he managed to make Herwald's opinion about him change he would finally have, Merlin forbids, a true friend. He couldn't dare to hope but he could still try. Worst case scenario he would find himself with a true enemy, something that he had come to believe he would never find while standing in the shadow of his father.

With a final wistful sigh he turned around and left for his next class with his inbred goons right behind him. He idly wondered what he would think of him knowing that earlier that day he had challenged Potter to a duel he had no intention whatsoever to show up.

* * *

"All right Potter," Draco snarled in one of the empty classroom on the third floor. "This time we settle it once and for all."

"I have to give you credit Malfoy. You actually came. I owe Ronald two galleons. You know he bet not even you would renege your honor by not showing up at a duel you issued. I was expecting you to send Filch after me or something like that."

"Shut up," he barked. That was exactly the initial plan. Too bad he couldn't manage to sway Grindelwald away from the Gryffindor trio. Now in order not to burn his bridges with Herwald he had to come up with a contingency plan. Since he couldn't publicly go back on his word and give up he had to step up and face Potter.

"We're going to be expelled, we're going to be expelled, we're going to be expelled," chanted Hermione in a corner of the room. Why the hell did she go with Ron and Alex again? Oh right, the whole mess came up because Malfoy had called her a Mudblood and he took up the duty to defend her honor. Tucking herself in her bed while one of her few friends was in trouble for her sake didn't rate very high on her scale of friendly things to do. She didn't want to pull a Weasley on Alex after all.

"Oh just shut," said Weasley. "Who even asked you to come, anyway?" Hermione answered with a glare, but she stopped her rant. "Right then. Are you two ready?" He asked the contestants. They both nodded. He was about to start the duel when he froze.

"Ron what…?" Alex trailed as he too heard the accursed sound.

"_Meow."_

One single word passed through the curfew-breaking students. _'Shit'. _Only one feline stalked the corridors of Hogwarts at night, Animagi notwithstanding: Mrs. Norris. And where the nightmare in cat disguise was, Filch couldn't be too far behind.

They didn't have to agree on postponing the duel. Like a coordinated team they gathered what little belongings they had brought with them and bolted from the room in the opposite direction from the mewling. They could already hear Filch rambling of hanging rule breakers by their toes but they had no intentions to find out if he could follow up with his threats.

Alex, while not a bookworm by any stretch of the imagination, had a really sharp mind. His father had trained him to be always aware of his surroundings, especially when walking into a potentially dangerous or a pranking situation. For this reason when he first walked that corridor to reach the duel's location he made sure to remember every potential hiding spot. That's why, when his mind registered in the corner of his eyes the presence of a door he hadn't seen before he stopped in his tracks.

The sudden action didn't go unnoticed to the others who turned around to see why they had stopped running.

"Mate, what the hell…?" Ron asked.

"We can't outrun Mrs. Norris. We'd better hide in here."

"Here where?" Malfoy asked as he came back. "I don't see a… Whoa! Where did this come out from?"

"There must be a powerful Notice-Me-Not charm on this door." Alex explained. "I've made sure to know every hiding spot before coming here. I've only seen it because I wasn't paying attention to it. It's the only flaw of this kind of spell."

Draco tried to open the door but it was firmly closed. He didn't notice the soft tickling feeling of a tracking charm on his hand. "It's locked."

"Guys if this door is protected like this we shouldn't…" Hermione tried to dissuade them. However in that very moment Filch rant sounded too close for comfort. The prospective of being found out weighted her very keen deduction and she acted out of instinct. "Alahomora," she whispered. With a click the door unlocked and they all rushed in without paying attention to the contents of the room.

Holding their breaths in the darkness they heard the cat menace pass in front of the door followed shortly by the stomping of Filch. After some time the sounds faded signaling that he had lost them.

Thinking that they were finally save they all sighed a relieved breath.

"_Grrrow…l"_

They froze. Time stood still. No one dared to breathe. A foul stench reached their noses. It definitely felt like… dog breath.

Surprisingly, Draco was the first one to turn around and take a good look at the source of the sound. The only reason why he didn't soil himself right there and then, as he stared too closely in the eyes of a three headed dog, was because he was too tense to relax his bladder enough to release its contents.

Gryffindors and Slytherin alike did the only thing an eleven years old can possibly think of doing when a Kerberos, several time your size, stares at you like a late night snack.

"AAAAAAAAH!"

They run. No countenance, no great show of courage. They slammed the door behind them, suddenly finding the thought of running into Filch somewhat comforting.

Instead, not three steps away from the door they halted once more in their tracks as they run into a sight even more fearsome than the last one.

Albus Dumbledore appeared in a show of flames with his loyal Phoenix Fawkes perched on his shoulder. His eyes held nothing of his usual grandfatherly warmth. They were cold as steel and set in a scowl that must have sent dark wizards running for their lives. He stared them in the eyes one after another, and for a moment three of them wanted to turn and run back to the Kerberos. The fourth, Draco, did the most sensed thing he had done that day. He fainted.

The sound of Draco's body hitting the ground snapped Dumbledore out his quiet rage. His face settled on a disapproving frown.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger and… Mr. Malfoy," they all flinched as their names were called except for Draco. "Please wake up Mr. Malfoy then follow me to my office. There are things we need to discuss. Your punishment for being out of bounds for one thing. I'm afraid a harsh detention is in order."

"Yes Headmaster," they all sighed. That was definitely not how any of them had imagined the night would go. Not at all.

* * *

**Author Notes:**

Well. Not much to say besides my attempt to give a different role to Draco than canon. Seriously his character was severely cliché through all the books up to the fifth. Actually every character seems to lack any sort of personal growth through the books. Draco more than anybody else was a two cents bad guys that never learned from his mistakes. This honestly made no sense to me unless JKR wanted a character easy to dislike and always ready for a good bashing.

That won't happen in this show. It's still undecided if Draco's going to be a good or a evil character. Maybe he will be neither but that doesn't mean that he will just give troubles to the other characters for the sake of putting a prick in his place.

Let me know what you think.

PS: A big thank you for Gakin my new beta.

Note: for the sake of keeping up with the update rate and not to pressure my beta reader(s) I'm publishing the chapter first and then swapping it with the revised version when it's done.

Till next time.


	14. Christmas Conundrum

**Chapter 13 – Christmas Conundrum (published: 01.13.2012 – beta: none)**

* * *

"Two weeks of detention?" Herwald asked befuddled. "For being out of bounds after curfew? Harsh. What were you doing out that late anyway?"

"Ah, we…" Alex began.

"We can't tell," Hermione cut in. "The Headmaster made us promise not to speak about what happened yesterday night to anybody. We have... stumbled somewhere we shouldn't have gone."

"You know that you're just making me want to find out more, right? Never mind I have half an idea where you might have gone. How did you see through the notice-me-not charm anyway?"

"You know about the door? And the three headed dog?" Alex nearly shouted.

"Be quiet," Hermione hissed at him but her face betrayed the same amount of curiosity as Alex's.

"I knew about the door. I didn't know about a Kerberos behind it. Thanks for telling me guys," Herwald said cheerfully. The Gryffindors groaned in response.

"Oh great," Alex whined. "Not even half a day and I've already got suckered. Damn it Herwald."

"You can't tell anyone," Hermione panicked. "If the Headmaster finds out we told you…"

"Calm down. I won't tell a soul. Who do you take me for? Anyway since the cat's out of the bag what do you think of it?"

"W-what should we think about it?" Alex asked. Herwald narrowed his eyes at him and had to resist the urge to palm his own face.

"Sigh. Only yesterday we figured out that the content of the vault which was broken into a few months back is somewhere here in Hogwarts. I have no proof of it of course, but unless two shady businesses are taking place here at the same time I think it's safe to assume that the dog is watching whatever the thief is after."

"That's not possible. There was no space for anything to be hidden there unless that... thing was sitting right on it," Alex explained.

"Maybe you aren't that far from the truth," Hermione said. "Haven't you noticed a trapdoor under its paw?"

"So it's beneath it," Herwald noted. "Nice observation skills Hermione. Not everyone would have noticed it in a situation like that."

"Ah. Thanks," she replied with a blush. "It's nothing really."

"It's not nothing Hermione," Alex corrected. "I haven't noticed it at all. The only thing I was thinking about was running the hell out of there."

Hermione only nodded in response. She wasn't used to be praised about something that wasn't schoolwork and it felt pleasantly odd.

"Anyway. How did you manage to get the door open? Last I checked there were enough layers of wards on it to keep a Cursebreaker at bay for a while."

"Eh? Not really. I used a simple Alohomora and the door opened up."

"That's a second year spell Hermione," Herwald pointed out. "This is unsettling."

"Why would it be?" Alex asked.

"Like I said, a few weeks ago the door was covered by safety wards. It doesn't make any sense that you managed to get it open with just a second year spell."

"What do you think has happened, Herwald?" Hermione asked.

"Hm. I can't imagine only two possible scenarios. Either the staff decided to reduce the protections to avoid the students being accidentally injured should they manage to find the door in spite of the charms against such a thing or…"

"Or…?" The two Gryffindors prompted at the same time.

"Or our mysterious culprit has already managed to take down the first layer of defenses around the… thing without none being the wiser. If we take into consideration what danger lays behind the door the first case becomes highly unlikely, therefore…"

The three students looked at each other and pondered the implications of Herwald's words. If what he said was true then the culprit had already partly outsmarted the Headmaster and the rest of the staff.

* * *

Sitting at his desk Albus sighed as Minerva drank from her cup of tea.

"Albus," she began. "How could this have happened?"

The aged wizard placed his glasses back on his nose. "Obviously _he_'s more capable than what I had initially thought. In all the years I knew him, Tom hasn't shown any propensity for the art of Warding. I'm afraid I have underestimated him a little. To think that he was able to slip past my wards without triggering them, nay, without me noticing that he had manipulated them speaks highly of his ability. If only he decided to invest his genius for the betterment of the world and the Wizardkind…"

"You know Albus," Minerva sighed "that's exactly what he thinks he's doing."

"I know. We were lucky this time Minerva. If Mister Potter and his friends hadn't found the door by accident we wouldn't have noticed the tampering at all." After a moment of silence the wizard chuckled.

"What's so funny Albus?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking that young Mister Potter keeps thwarting Tom's plans just by being around."

"Do you believe there's some sort of connection?" Minerva asked.

"Of course there is, Minnie. It's called Fate. Magic works in wondrous ways and I believe that Mr. Potter is the natural response to Tom's spreading corruption."

"That's nonsense Albus," Minerva commented. "You speak as if Magic has a will of its own. Mr. Potter is a good kid and a wizard above average, but he's just a child that has been extremely lucky once."

Albus merely acknowledge her opinion without further pushing his reasoning. She wasn't privy to the prophecy. Beside himself only the Potters and Severus knew its full content and without that tidbit of information Minerva's opinion was more than natural.

"Perhaps. Regardless of that, Mr. Potter fortunate misadventure helped us a great deal. We must improve the security around the stone at once. The mirror will arrive soon and by then we must make sure that the trap will spring properly. It's our best chance to catch Tom."

"It's a dangerous game we are playing here Albus. If the students get involved…."

"It won't happen Minerva. Tom has no intention to advertise his return and harming the children would bring too much attention on the school."

"But yesterday incident…." she tried to object.

"There are reasons for the curfew beyond sending the students to bed early, Minerva. A magical castle like Hogwarts it's inherently dangerous at night. Between the moving stairways, disappearing rooms and doors there's more that one way of a kid to hurt himself. What happened yesterday with Mr. Potter is a result of our inability to enforce discipline first and foremost."

"What about the Troll then? Ms. Granger was almost killed Albus. Was that just another accident?"

"It was indeed an unfortunate accident. Ms. Granger wasn't supposed to be there at all at the time. Why do you think it was discovered when all students were supposed to be in a completely different area of the castle? It was an incredible coincidence that Ms. Granger happened to be in the same part of dungeon as the Troll. In a castle as big as Hogwarts the chances of a single stray student stumbling into the Troll were nearly nonexistent. Tom had no doubt considered it as well. If Ms Granger was harmed it would have backfired on him. Do you see how this time he didn't try any potentially harmful diversion? Trust me, Minerva. Keeping the students safe is in Tom's best interest as it is ours. What we must not do now is failing to uphold our duty and keep the students were they are supposed to be at all time, even in normal circumstances."

Minerva's tea cup made a loud noise as it was placed back on its plate. "Very well Albus, but Merlin helps you if any of the students is harmed because of your overconfidence because I certainly won't."

"I understand Minerva. Thank you for your trust."

She nodded at him and then she left the office. When finally the door closed behind her Albus let out a powerful sigh. He was getting too old for that stuff.

* * *

"Mr. Malfoy," Herwald greeted as the blond Slytherin approached. The two weeks of detention had gone by and Yule was getting closer. Malfoy avoided Herwald until that moment, in the hope of finding him in a better disposition than he could possibly be when his friends were spending their time in detention. "What brings you here tonight?" he asked barely moving his eyes from the book he was reading.

"I was… just wondering how you were doing Herwald."

"Just fine thank you. I see you have taken my advice to heart and decided to speak with me in public. I'm glad."

"You are? I mean, of course. Sorry if I couldn't come before but I have been otherwise occupied."

"Ah yes. Your detention. Alex told me about that. Nasty business. What possessed you to do that?" Herwald inquired.

"Ah, well. Potter and I had a little… divergence of opinions a while ago and we decided to solve it by the Old Ways," Draco explained.

"Yes that part was clear, however I wasn't talking about the duel per se, Mr. Malfoy. I'm wondering why you showed up in the first place."

"Ah, but… I…."

"Don't play me for a fool Draco," Herwald say in a cold tone, putting away all pretenses. "It's clear that issuing the duel at that time and place was a trap for Alex. Only a dunderhead couldn't see through a simple plot like that. Trust me, I've already berated Alex for being such a naïve little fool, but for Merlin's sake why did you show up at all?"

Draco was actually at loss for words so he simply mumbled the truth. "I… thought that if I landed your friends in detention my proposal would sorta... you know… be wasted?"

"Ah, I see. By putting yourself on even ground with them, and by sharing the repercussions you though I couldn't hold a particular grudge against you. Is that how it played in your mind?"

"Uhm… yes?" He asked tentatively.

"Draco, Let me make something perfectly clear," Herwald said in the same tone of voice Draco's father used when he wanted to be listened without a fuss. "You must have understood by now that I don't share your beliefs on Blood Purity. What matters to me are actions rather than one's heritage. Now, if you decided to renege your honor by not going to the duel you would have lost what little respect I originally had for you. I don't care for your reasons as it's not my place to judge as I wouldn't have cared whatever reasons you could have had for not showing up."

Draco swallowed the knot in his throat. The way Herwald spoke was indeed what one would expect of the Head of House he was supposed to become. It made him feel smaller than he ever felt in his life.

"I'm sorry… I wanted..."

"Do not apologize. For a reason or another you managed to preserve your honor, and that's all that matters. Next time it happens though, make sure to choose a proper time and place for a challenge. And besides…"

"Yes?"

"You could have asked either to anticipate or postpone the time of the duel when you decided to actually go, you know?"

"I know," Draco's cheeks reddened in front of such a simple fact. He hadn't thought of that at the time and he berated himself over and over during his hour long detentions. "I can't believe how stupid I've been in this situation. If my father knew… ugh. I don't even want to think about that."

"Let it be a lesson learned then. Now I should really return to my dorm. Goodnight Draco."

"Ah. Goodnight Herwald."

The raven haired boy left the Great Hall, leaving behind a somewhat confused Draco. He couldn't make head or tail of the conversation he just had. Well for one it didn't seem that Herwald disliked him anymore than before, so despite how badly the whole duel thing had gone at least it hadn't been a waste of time.

Sighing he left the Hall as well to return to his room. It was only before falling asleep that his brain registered the fact that Grindelwald… Herwald had called him by his name for the first time. He wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad thing seeing the circumstance, but he could at the very least hope for the best.

* * *

Winter reached full swing and a couple of days before Yule's break Hogwarts and the rest of the grounds were covered in a thick layer of snow. Predictably snow ball wars were one of the favorite past time of the youngest students and even a few upper years.

Herwald participated as well a couple of times. Soon enough is accuracy with every throw was feared among all his foes. Even he was secretly proud of it. It had been a long time from the last day he had to hunt small animals by throwing rocks at them and he was rather happy that his skills hadn't become rusty.

It was a rather good period for Herwald. His charms were finally on par with the rest of his class, provided that he didn't care about the results in order for the results not to be catastrophic and he had a small circle of friends he respected and a little higher number of acquaintances who respected him like every other human being. It was a small but it was an improvement nonetheless.

Regardless of that Herwald craved to return home for the holidays. Despite being constantly occupied he still missed his sister tremendously and incredibly, he wanted to see even his old men again even though his 'grandfather' wasn't that pleasant person to begin with.

So when the day finally arrived to return home for the holidays he boarded the train with a smile plastered on his face. Hermione and Alex commented how odd it was to see him smile like that. Alex actually said that seeing it freaked him out. Herwald response was a flat glare in his direction but he didn't otherwise rebuff his words. Hermione just told him that he should smile more often and not that smirk he always wore when he proved himself to be right in this or that discussion. That was absolutely annoying.

After the train pulled in at King Cross station Alex was suddenly swallowed by the adoring fans, barely managing to wish them a Merry Christmas before disappearing in the crowd.

"You think he's going to be all right?" Hermione asked.

"Hm. I don't think they are going to harm their hailed savior, besides the Aurors are already here."

"Isn't that his father?" She asked pointing at a man in Auror's robes. "I think I recognize him from a picture of his family he has showed me."

"Seems so," he agreed. "Looks like he's going to be all right. Your parents are waiting for you beyond the barrier right Hermione? I'll walk you there."

"You would? Thank you. It's the first time I introduce a friend to my parents," she said cheerfully. Herwald winced slightly at her words. Apparently you didn't need to be the heir to a Dark family to be shunned by your peers.

"I'll be glad to meet them Hermione. They must be pretty interesting people if your brilliant mind is any indication."

"Flatterer," she rebuffed with a smile and a slight blush. "Come on. This way," she darted forward and through the exit, stepping into the Muggle side of the station.

They scanned the crowd for sign of her family. It was Herwald to see a woman that was undoubtedly her mother. "Hermione. I think that's your mother."

"Where? MOM!" Hermione sprinted toward the older woman almost jumping in her arm. Right behind her stood a man in his mid-thirty that smiled at the exchange. Quietly Herwald shortened the distance but stood a little away in order not to intrude in what was a clearly private moment. Hermione switched the hug to his father and in that moment her mother noticed him.

"Mom, this is Herwald Grindelwald. I wrote you about him remember? Herwald this is my mother Emma Granger and my father Dan."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Granger," he greeted as he shook both their hands. "Hermione speaks very fondly of you."

"That would be my line young man," her father replied with mirth. "There hasn't been a single letter where she hasn't mentioned you in one way or another."

"That's right. All of a sudden being in a magical castle is no longer the main topic. She's all Herwald here, Herwald there."

"Mom! Dad!" She shrieked. "Honestly, stop embarrassing me."

They all laughed at her obvious distress. "It's all good fun pumpkin," Dan said.

"Yes, but jokes aside, thanks for being a good friend to our daughter Herwald," her mother said. "It helps us a great deal knowing that she has a good friend she can count on while she's away from home. Hermione has always been a special kid. It was never easy for her to bond with other children. I'm glad she has finally found someone who can appreciate her."

"There's no need to thank me Mrs. Granger. Hermione is a good friend to me as well. I'm glad that I've got to know her. Even in the Wizarding world there are few witches brilliant as she is."

"Yes, well," Hermione spoke trying to steer the conversation from the current subject. "How are you going to get home Herwald? Are your parents going to get you here or are you going back to wait for them on the platform?"

"Hm? Oh no. I won't go back home for a couple of days yet. I have a small flat in Muggle London where I'm going to stay until Yule's eve before taking the international portkey. I still have to shop for gifts you know?"

"All by yourself?" She asked befuddled. Even her parents shared an odd look at that tidbit of information.

"Yes, of course. I'm going to take the Knight Bus there so you don't have to worry about me. I'm going to be safe."

"But… What about your mom and dad? Aren't they worried about you?" Herwald stared at her blankly before chuckling. Of course she wouldn't know. "What's so funny? I'm worried about you."

"Sorry Hermione. I didn't mean to laugh at you. I've just realized I haven't ever told you anything about my family, have I?"

"Uh. No, not really. Why? Do you have problems with your parents?" She asked now scared of having touched a difficult topic. She knew of course of his family was considered in the Wizarding world but he never spoke of it beside that and only when it was relevant to the ongoing conversation. Herwald was reserved to say the least.

"No, no. My parents are fine. Well at least my father is. My mother died of childbirth or so I have been told. I never knew her. Please don't feel guilty. There's no way you could have known."

Hermione was absolutely mortified. Her parents too looked like someone had punched them in the stomach. "Oh, Herwald I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…"

"Shush. It's okay I said."

"But then, why isn't your father here to pick you up at least? If I understand this international portkey thing you live abroad right? I don't know all details and I don't want to sound judgmental, but is it a common thing for wizards to leave a child by himself in a foreign country? I'm sorry but I can't quite wrap my head around that."

Herwald felt a little annoyed by Mr. Granger attitude but then he figured that it was a normal concern from an honest adult.

"Hm, no it's not common. Actually it has to do with how I grew up and with my family standing in Wizarding society. It's not a happy subject and I'm really not too willing to share it either. I can guarantee you that I'm going to be all right… but you aren't just going to leave it at that, are you?" They just shook their head at the same time. Herwald had to smile at that. "Tell you what. My flat is on the way to your house if I've understood where you live. How about you give me a ride there and I'll tell you what you want to know? I hate riding the Knight Bus anyway."

Figuring that the good natured people in front of him wouldn't let him go until it was clear that he was going to be okay he bargained with them. Besides he positively loathed the Knight bus. Riding a Muggle car sounded a better solution for his stomach.

Once the luggage was in the back of the car Dan started the engine and drove to the address Herwald gave him.

"Please, understand that in my country this story is rather well known. I'm sorry if I've never talked you about it before, but it actually never crossed my mind, and as you know I'm a rather reserved person."

Hermione in the back seat with him nodded.

"As Hermione might already have told you, my family is rather influent in the Wizarding World, especially on the continent. However, for all of our influence, we are also extremely hated for our history."

"I'm sorry to interrupt you so soon, but I've got to ask. Why is your family so hated? Hermione has written us about it but she didn't give us any detail."

"Hmm… it's a bit complicated so I'll give you a short version. During your Second World War another conflict raged through the continent among the magical brethren. Although the reasons behind the war and its final objectives were extremely different in many cases some of the battles were camouflaged as Muggle bombardments and the likes."

"And… your family was involved with this?" Emma asked.

"My family was behind it. Gellert Grindelwald, my great uncle, rallied a good portion of the Wizarding World and set the continent ablaze in a war that lasted for years."

"So you are… like the nephew of the magical version of Hitler?"

"I resent the comparison Mr. Granger, but I can understand it your point of view. My great uncle was an ambitious and cruel wizard but he was nowhere in the league of that man, but he wasn't a monster. He has done terrible things, but so did the opposition. Let me assure you, there were no angels in that war, but as usual History labels the losers as Evil and the winners as Good. As such, the common opinion is that my great uncle was some sort of monster and by extension the rest of his family. I'm no exception to that. The war never reached Britain so the stigma isn't as strong, but the Wizarding world is rather slow in changing its opinion on some matters. A result of our longer lives no doubt."

"I understand," Dan said. "But what has this to do with you being alone in a foreign country?"

"There are a few reasons for that. For one, my face isn't well known in this country, so there's very little chance that somebody would look for me specifically. In Germany most people think I'm being homeschooled. We are trying to divert people attention and let me have a peaceful school life. If my father came to pick me up on the platform my cover would be blown."

"I can understand that, but it's still dangerous for a child to be by himself. There are plenty of ill-intended people around even without considering those specifically after you," Emma protested.

"That's true, Mrs. Granger. And this is when Magic comes into play. I've been given a piece of jeweler charmed in a way to make me unnoticeable my Mundanes unless I do something to catch specifically their attention. From the moment I've stepped out of the platform I was already completely safe and the Knight Bus, which is a magical transportation, would have showed up right in front of me and dropped me right in front of my apartment."

"So you would have been invisible?" Hermione asked.

"Invisible isn't correct. If somebody looked at me they would see me, but their attention would be shifted elsewhere. I wasn't in danger of being run over by a car if that's what you fear."

"Well that's good to know," Dan commented. "I'm sorry it sounded like we wanted to put our noses were it didn't belong but…"

"It's all right, Mr. Granger. You only did what you thought was right, and I appreciate the concern. Besides, all it takes for the world to fall into ruin is that good people do nothing."

The only male Granger chuckled.

"Did you hear that Emma? Looks like Hermione has found her match in being mature beyond her years."

"Oh I've heard, all right. Tell me Herwald," she asked leaning toward the backseat were the kids sat. "Have you ever considered of dating my daughter?"

"MOM!" "EMMA!"

The indignant shriek of the other two Grangers was only matched by the woman laughter while Herwald fidgeted uncomfortably on his seat. Why was that everybody was so intent of making a couple out of them? He was now seriously starting to dislike the thought.

* * *

The Grangers drove Harry all the way to his apartment in one of the nicest areas of the city. Hermione knew that the Grindelwald were loaded but to buy an apartment for Herwald alone in that part of town was way over the top even for them.

"Here Hermione. This is my Yule gift for you. I have already gave Alex his." he said handing over a neatly wrapped package. Form the feeling of it when she took it she knew it was a book.

"But I… haven't got you anything yet. I planned to send you something via owl before Christmas but…."

"It's okay. You can send it to me later I don't mind. I prefer the exchange of gift to be done in person rather but I never had to make gift for someone outside my family so I my opinion might be a little distorted."

"I.., should I open it now then?" She asked.

"If that's all right with you." She unwrapped the package and as predicted a book was inside it. "A Compendium to Potions? I've never heard of this book. Is it rare?"

"I certainly hope it is. Otherwise I'd have been ripped off," he answered back joking, waiting for Hermione to read the name of the author. When she did her eyes widened and darted from him to the book and back.

"You.. you… you… You wrote this?" She asked in near awe.

"Indeed. I know that Potions is the subject you are having the most difficulties with so I thought that you would have liked it. It covers everything on the subject from first to fifth year. It also has a special section on the contents of the exams in the past fifteen years and…. Hermione? Hermione?"

Said girl was looking at him with a vacant stare as if she just saw the incarnation of some sort of divine entity and her brain couldn't take it. He realized in that moment that if he wanted to make her move over her crush for him, then he wasn't making a good job.

"He writes books at his age?" Dan whispered to his wife as they watched the scene unfold.

"So it seems. Do you know what that means, right?"

"It means that I get to give him the father to boyfriend speech," he answered with certainty. "Right?"

She frowned. "It depends. Is it the one dad gave you? Where he chained you to a chair in his tool shed, and then proceeded to show you his collection of hunting knives? The same collection he gave you after Hermione was born?"

"That one," he confirmed with a nod.

"Then no," she nearly growled. "Unless you'd like to sleep on the couch every night for the rest of your natural life."

"But honey…"

"I don't want to hear it."

"Come on. I just want to see he squirm a little bit. I've been waiting for years for my turn to traumatize somebody like I've been."

"No means no!"

As the two adults bickered Herwald found himself in quite the conundrum. Like in a trance Hermione walked to him and pulled him into a fierce hug that threatened to snap his spine. She didn't notice him tense at the unexpected physical contact.

"Herwald Gellert Grindelwald, this is the most thoughtful gift I've ever received. How did you know Potions was giving me a hard time? I've never told you."

It took a moment for him to regain his composure and wriggle out of her embrace.

"It's because of your quills," he answered trying to suppress the shivers.

"My quills? What do they have to do with anything?"

"Ah. Uhm. I've noticed that you always chew on them when you are thinking too hard during your assignment. When we are working on a Potions essay you go through five of them at once like they were the sugar version."

"R- Really? I.. I never even noticed it myself."

"Well, you should pay more attention to your teeth then. When was the last time you've a seen dentist anyway?"

"Well that was…." She stuttered as she tried to remember when exactly last time was. "Herwald, honestly!" She huffed once she got his joke.

"I can't believe you actually forgot your parents are dentists Hermione. If that's the effect books have on you, then perhaps I should stop giving them to you."

"Please don't even joke about something like that."

After promising to send him a great gift, Hermione and her parents left for their house, leaving Herwald in front of his apartment complex.

Grabbing his trunk he climbed the stair to his flat, pushed the door open and locked it behind him, before breaking in uncontrollable shivers. His breathing accelerated and did his heart rate. It took him five whole minutes to regaling control of himself enough to stand.

"Damn it," he muttered as soon as he was capable of speech again. It took all of his Occlumency capacity to hold his reactions back until he was safe in the privacy of his own house. He had almost blasted Hermione away when she hugged him before.

He hated it.  
The memory of powerlessness.  
He hated how he felt when they took him against his will.  
He hated how they broke him like a cheap toy.  
He hated how it still haunted him now, to the point of making him reject an act of honest affection.  
And more than anything else he hated himself for not being strong enough to crush the fear that people long dead had instilled into him.

"Leda… " he whispered to himself the name of the only person who could reach to him without rejection. The only person whose touch dispelled the fear still clenching his heart. The only person that could truly put his nightmares to rest. "I'm coming back home."

* * *

**Author Notes:**  
All right. This was supposed to be published by Christmas. Obviously it didn't go as planned. Go figure.

Anyway it's finally here. I hope you enjoyed it.

As it's clear from this chapter, behind his cool and relaxed outward appearance Herwald still has issues. Occlumency allows him to get in control of his feelings and fears while even as he sleeps but if something triggers the memory of that night he has a relapse. It will take a lot of time for him to finally bury the trauma for good and it won't be only through his efforts. Other people will play a major role in his development and he will use both love and hate to finally move on.

If you like were this is going, review!

Ah, what the heck! Review anyway!

Till next time.


	15. The Wheel of Life

**Chapter 14 – The Wheel of Life**

* * *

The entrance hall of Grindelwald manor was silent and quiet until the fireplace roared to life. Green flames erupted and a figure formed inside them. Herwald Grindelwald stepped out and with a casual movement of his hand he swatted away the inevitable leftover ash.

The chilling temperature of the room immediately invaded him and without losing any time he strode to the double doors that led to the inner part of the mansion. Pushing the door open he didn't have the chance to make one step inside that a human shaped tracking missile glomped him and tackled his body to the ground.

"Brother! You're back!"

Moving his eyes to met his assailant's he found the warm gaze of his sister looking back at him. Like a the natural reaction it was, his arms circled her body and reciprocated the hug.

"I'm home, Leda. I've missed you Sister."

Brother and Sister. While they might have called each other by their given names what really defined the bond they had were those titles. Even after being adopted in different families, and thus becoming technically cousins, that was the way they used to refer to each other.

"I've missed you too," she whispered in his ear. They basked in their reunion like a drowning man returning to breath air. They had been each other support for too long not to suffer a long separation.

The figure at the end of the stairs simply watched the exchange and did nothing to disturb them. While he might have been an adoption of mutual convenience, Bertram had grown to love the two kids like they really were his children, even knowing that there was no way he could share with them the same level of bonding they had with each other.

He was fine with that. For the longest time he had resigned himself never to experience the joys of fatherhood but life had decided to finally grant him the privilege and he couldn't ask for anything more than that.

When it finally seemed that the two were pulling apart and getting back on their feet he walked down the steps and joined them.

"Welcome home, Son."

Herwald turned to meet his eyes and bowed respectfully

"Thank you Father. It is good to be back."

They watched each other in silence for a long moment before Bertram lips tugged to reveal the hint of a hidden smirk. Herwald expression was pretty much the same. Still they stared at each other and neither of them let go if their impassable mask of politeness. After a long moment Bertram was broke in contained laughter. Herwald soon followed.

"Enough with this ridiculous Pureblood etiquette," he chuckled. "Welcome home, kid. How was the trip?"

"By Portkey, dad. That alone should be enough to define what kind of awful experience I had to go through," he answered with the same relaxed tone.

"I suppose you're right. How about school? Did you make any friends?"

"You already kwon the answer to that question," Herwald pointed out.

"Of course I do. You cousin was so kind to share the contents of your correspondence with me. I was merely pointing out how I had to find out from a third party because you didn't see fit to write your old man a single letter."

"Are you jealous?" he mocked. Through the years they have lived together Herwald and Bertram developed a bond that was more similar to those shared between long time friends and mischief partners rather than a father and his son.

"Hardly," he deadpanned. "But this lack of forethought to your only parental figure is most distressing. You have been taught better than that."

"And I've also been taught not to waste time pointlessly. Did you receive the information you needed?"

"Well yes, as a matter of fact…."

"Then what are you complaining about? You're jealous, that's just it," Herwald said with finality.

"You wound me, son," Bertram said in mock hurt.

"Pfft. Yeah, right. And I drew blood from a rock last night."

"Hey! I'll have you know that I'm a sensible person," he objected. Herwald turned to look at his sister, then both looked at him like he had grown a second head. "Oh, right. Gang up on me will you?"

"Herwald, you are back," a deep voice cut into their conversation. They all turned to look at the figure at the top of the stairs. Gerard Grindelwald, Head of House Grindelwald and a man with more than one death sentence over his head was looking down at them with his piercing eyes.

"Hello Grandfather," Herwald greeted with a polite bow that, while not much different from the one he gave his father moments prior, it held a more sincere meaning of respect.

"Raise you head, boy, Grindelwalds bow to no one. Not even to each other."

"For we acknowledge no superiors, only equals," Leda completed the family motto much to everyone but the old man surprise.

"Indeed," the elder confirmed. "Do not look so surprised Herwald. Your cousin is following your footstep with admirable dedication. You seem to have set a standard for her that she does not intend to fail." Leda couldn't help but blush under the praise and her brother appreciative gaze. "Now, get yourself reacquainted and come to my study after dinner. There are a number of things we need to discuss."

"Are you not going to join us at the table, Grandfather?"

"No. This body of mine no longer requires much nourishment to function."

"… I see. I will be there immediately after dinner then."

"See that you do." With those words the Wizard disappeared to is quarters leaving behind the trio to deal with the gloomy feeling.

"Well that was nice," Bertram commented offhandedly. Being the one that lived with the eldest Grindelwald for most of his life he could shrug off the mood with relative ease. "Well then. Dinner will be served in an hour or so. I'll send Tipsy to call for you when it's ready."

"Thank you uncle," Leda said before grasping Herwald's hand and dragging him away without his consent. Not that he'd put any resistance anyway.

"Have fun you two. But not too much fun. I'm not ready to be a grandfather yet. OUCH!"

The answer came in the shape of a flying shoe, hitting him with deadly precision right between his eyes. Strangely enough neither of the retreating children seemed to missing one thus making him realize that Leda had conjured and banished one in his direction without even looking at him. The girl wasn't above average in terms of magical power but her focus was not behind her brother's. She was going to become a fearsome woman one day.

Muttering something about disrespectful kids he went about his business but with a smile on his face. When those two were around things were bound to be fun.

* * *

Leda shut the door to her room behind her before pushing her brother against the wall and moulding her body over his. They remained there without speaking for an indefinable amount of time, simply basking in each other presence and warmth.

It was a long time before they opened their mouths to speak.

"How have you been Brother. Is Scotland treating you well? I want to hear it from your voice not from ink and parchment," she demanded softly but firmly. Herwald was more than willing to comply.

He told her about his days at Hogwarts, about the Troll, about his friends and their misadventure. The general treatment he received from his peers as well as the noteworthy exceptions in the person of Padma and the students from Slytherin.

Leda wasn't surprised but sill she was less the thrilled to know how her beloved Brother was being treated in that place where she couldn't comfort him. She tightened her fist to the point of making her knuckle turn white.

Herwald placed an hand over hers in comfort. "Don't worry about it, Sister. We already knew it was going to be hard."

"Even then I can't stand how they treat you. Why can't they see the wonderful person you really are?"

"Because I don't let them see it. Because they don't deserve to know it."

"But...," she tried to protest but her words were cut by Herwald's finger gently placed on her lips.

"We cannot hope for the fools to see the light if they don't want to, Sister. Don't worry about them in my place."

"... If that's what you want Brother. I don't like it though."

"I know you don't," he chuckled. "And that's why you are my beloved Sister."

"Love you too Brother."

They conversation by a knock on the door and Tipsy's voice announcing dinner. They smiled at each other and walked hand in hand to the dining room.

With only the three of them eating the dinner was a rather casual event that left Herwald in a good mood. However as he prepared to meet his grandfather he couldn't help but feel a little tense.

The old man had always been kind if a little stern with him but he never failed to put him under a great deal of pressure. The eldest Grindelwald had expectations for him. Expectations he didn't want to see failed as he had bet what little of his life he had left in order for Herwald to have the chance to fulfil them.

With the full weight of the relationship they shared at the forefront of his thoughts Herwald knocked against the hard wood of his grandfather's study.

He received no answer. He knocked again.  
Silence.

"Grandfather? I'm coming in," he announced before pushing the door open, only to find the unmoving form of Gerard laying on the floor, unmoving. "Grandfather!" he shouted rushing to his help. He checked his vitals and realized that he was still alive albeit rather weak. "Tipsy!"

Answering the summon the long eared elf popped. "What can Tipsy does... Master Gerard!"

"Tipsy! Pepper Up potions! Now!"

"Right aways!" He popped out and returned moments later handing over the vials to the adopted Grindelwald.

Herwald raised Gerard's head and forced him to swallow the revitalizing fluid. Colour returned to his cheeks almost immediately but the man was still unconscious. Herwald didn't dare Ennervate him without knowing the cause of his condition. "Tipsy. Inform father and summon a Healer immediately. I'll move Grandfather to his bed."

The elf wasted no time and did exactly what he was told.

* * *

No longer than five minutes later Bertram arrived with a Healer who quickly proceeded to assess the situation. After various charms and sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"He should be fine now. His heart nearly gave in. The Pepper Up potions you made him drink saved his life. Good thinking Mr. Grindelwald."

"Is there something else we can do for him?" Herwald asked.

"Not much I'm afraid. Forgive my bluntness but he should have been dead for a long time now. The fact that he's still alive is a testament to his strength."

"I would have said stubbornness," Bertram commented. "The old man isn't going down until he has finished all his business. Though this was a pretty close call."

"That might be the case. I've never had any other patient this strong willed. Have you seen him perform any spell lately?"

"No, not that I can think of."

"Hm. That makes sense. His magic his keeping his body going. I'm quite afraid that if he'd casts even the simplest spell his body would collapse. Make sure to keep a supply of Pepper ups around him all the time."

"How long is he going to last?" Herwald asked with surprising blunt.

"A week. Two if he's lucky. Any more than that would be a miracle."

"I see," Bertram accepted with finality. "Thank you for your help."

"Just doing my job. I wish I could do more but..."

"It's alright. We knew this moment was coming for a long time now. At least he will spend his last Yule with his family. "

"Yes I suppose that's true. Now, if that is all I have other patients to attends."

"Of course. Thank you for coming so swiftly."

With a polite bow the man left for the Floo leaving the Gridelwalds with their thoughts.

"Herwald, come here," the raspy voice of Gerard called from within the room.

"Grandfather, you're awake. How are you feeling?" He asked, entering the bedroom while the others waited outside.

"As fine as the situation allows, I'm afraid. Don't worry, child. I'll last long enough to put my things in order."

"That's not what I…"

"I know. I know, Herwald," he cut him off. "Don't mind this grumpy old man. Old habits die hard. Harder than me anyway. "

"Grandfather...," Harry whispered

" I never got tired of hearing you calling me that. For the longest time I believed that I wouldn't ever hear have the chance of someone calling me that. Now, enough wasting time on touchy feelings. I have not much left and there are still plenty of things to deal with. Fetch me the box I keep in the top drawer of my desk, would you please?"

"Of course," Herwald replied. He immediately went to Gerard desk and retrieved an inconspicuous wooden box for the drawer. While there were no visible locking mechanism Herwald could feel the sealing charms applied to it. He brought it to his grandfather bed and followed the instruction he gave him to unlock the box.

"This is the Grindelwald's family heirloom passed from generation to generation," the old man explained before he caught sight of Herwald wide eyed expression. "I believe you already know what it is."

Indeed he knew. Herwald knowledge of myths and ancient lore were on par with any other scholar of magical history. Even a semi-competent historian would recognize the rune carved bracelet in front of the raven haired wizard.

"Grandfather this… I cannot accept it," he protested.

"You can and you must, child. Once death finally claims me what's left of my magic will meld with yours, making you a Grindelwald both in blood and magic. It will fall upon you to protect that legacy."

"I understand, grandfather."

"Very well. Now remember, the '_**Sevenfold Shield of Blood' **_offers the best protection of its genre but at the price of putting your life on the line. Having it pierced equals to having your existence pierced. Use it wisely and only as a last resort."

"I will, grandfather."

"Good. Never forget Herwald, you represent the future of our family. Without you there will be no one else to further our legacy, no one to keep the Magik alive. As such your life doesn't belong to yourself alone but to all of those who gave their life so that our magic could reach the future of our world."

"I have accepted that burden the very same day I accepted to bear the name of Grindelwald, Grandfather. I did not forget that even for single minute."

"Then there is nothing else for me to say about this matter. Now, indulge an old man last whims and tell me about your days at Hogwarts."

Herwald spent the rest of the evening entertaining the dying man with tales from his first term at Hogwarts. Having passed the torch to the future generations, the elderly wizard allowed himself for the first time in his life to be just another grandfather to his only grandson.

When Herwald left Gerard's room that night the old man was sleeping with a serene smile on his lips.

* * *

That night, Herwald laid awake in his bed, toying with the bracelet he received just a few hours before. To an inexperienced eye it would look like a fanciful trinket. A bronze bracelet carved with incomprehensible runes. Truly it didn't look like it was worth more than a couple of knuts.

To think that such an unremarkable piece of jewelry held the best shield ever created by mankind during the Age of the Gods sublimated to the ranks of _Noble Phantasms_ through centuries of legends. It wasn't an unique piece. As it often happens with such items the shield had been replicated with varying degrees of success but it still was a pretty damn rare artifact.

Actually, there was an high chance that the one he was holding in his hands in that moment was a replica, but even then he could feel its unrivaled power humming in response to his acquired blood. Original o rnot the ability to produce such a thing had been lost for over a millennia, making it a priceless piece of magic unrivaled by other products of the current era.

To think that such a thing would one day end in his hands…. Life truly was full of surprises.

_*Knock*Knock*_

Herwald was snapped out of his musing by a soft knock on the door. There was no need to guess who would come to visit him at that hour.

"Come on in, Leda."

The blond girl, wearing only her nightgown opened the door and slipped inside. She made her way to Herwald bed and promptly snuggled against him. Both of them released a contented sigh.

"How are you feeling Herwald?"

"I… I'm confused," he admitted. Her silence was a prompt to keep talking. "When there was just the two of us things were harder but so much simpler at the same time. I only needed to care about you and nobody else. You were my whole world and the only thing whose loss could truly hurt me. To tell the truth… I'm scared. The old man is going to die soon and I… I think I'm going to miss him."

"Brother…," she whispered.

"Is this how it feels to grow attached to somebody and then lose them? Grandfather Gerard raised me with the firm teaching that Death is a fundamental part of Life, that I should love the first as much as I love the second, but it's difficult. I understand. Rationally I understand what he meant by that but I'm scared. I came all this way but I'm still so weak."

"Herwald… Don't. You don't have to be ashamed," Leda protested. "You aren't weak just because losing a loved one hurts. Remember what he taught you about strength? What is the true meaning behind the word strength? I remember it clearly."

"He said… He said that a strong person is one whose heart is bleeding but keeps beating. Even if it hurts it keeps going.."

"That's right," she confirmed. "See? You don't need to be ashamed. The fact that you heart hurts its proof of your strength. Don't deny that pain but don't let it hinder you either. Treasure for that is the measure of your love for him."

"…" Herwald said nothing else. He simply allowed himself to cry, seeking comfort in his sister's embrace. Lead as well let tears fall into her brother chest, both for their soon departing grandfather and for Herwald sorrow as well.

Since they have been together he had always been the one to do the comforting but this time she had the chance to share, if not to lift, his pain. They cried themselves to sleep and the following morning found them still embraced to one another.

* * *

Yule and Boxing day arrived. Gift were exchanged in a surprisingly good atmosphere. The inexorability of Gerard's death didn't spoil the mood. As a matter of fact forced, or perhaps granted , the opportunity to cast aside every matter not concerning their odd family.

Both Herwald and Leda spent a great deal of time with the eldest Grindelwald talking about trivial and unimportant things. In the evening it was Bernard turn to spend time with his father. It was one of the longest time he ever passed in presence of the old of man being simply a father and his son and not the Head of House and his Scion. Neither of them regretted anything about their relationship up to that point but in Gerard's final days things became more relaxed. The old man even laughed at one point and not one of his derisive, mocking laughter that he reserved for his enemies when they made fools of themselves. No, it was a truly heartfelt laugh. Bertram nearly toppled his chair in surprised when it happened.

All in all, it was the best family time the Grindelwald family had ever experienced in the past fifty years.

* * *

Three days later Gerard Grindelwald passed away serenely in his sleep. Having lived many years more than he was supposed to he had managed to put his affairs in proper order for his son to take completely over the family business. The funeral was a sober event with very participants. As the druidic ritual demanded Gerard body was buried in the barren earth, without a coffin. Death would return his mortal shell to life in a different form a the Wheel of Life would start anew.

As the last shovel of dirt covered the old wizard's final resting place, Herwald placed Gerard's final gift on his wrist. With a low hum the last drop of Magik flooded Herwald core. A silent testament to the rekindled fire of his will.

Hand in hand with Leda he walked away, Bertram right behind them. Their faces were set in firm mask of determination. There was a long, difficult path ahead of them. One that they had to walk together least they fell and failed. There were promises to keep and goals to reach.

Silently they left the burial ground without turning back even once. They had no need to. Gerard had left them everything he could give them to succeed in the challenges ahead and in that knowledge they stepped forward to face another day.

* * *

**A/N:** Yeah. I know. It took forever to have this chapter out. Mind you it was mostly complete a week after the previous update but I never felt like finishing it. Dunno why, except perhaps being taken by other FicDoms. Hopefully next chapter won't take as long.

Now I've been asked why, if Herwald is so troubled by the rape he suffered, he doesn't get himself Obliviated. In this story Magic isn't so convenient. While erasing a memory is easy enough the subconscious scar doesn't fade and by losing the memory of the event the victim loses also the ability to rationalize and control the resulting fear as he wouldn't know what caused it. It would turn in an outright phobia. Not much of an improvement. Furthermore, when a memory is responsible in big measure for the psychological development of an individual (for better or worse), removing said memory would seriously undermine the psyche. So no, Herwald can't just have the bad things Obliviated from his mind, especially so long after the event. It would only make thing worse.

I hope I made it clear. That's all for now.

Till next time folks!


	16. Matters of Blood

**Chapter 15 –Matters of Blood (published 05.08.12 – Beta: none)**

* * *

The rhythmic humming of the Hogwarts Express lulled Herwald in a peaceful state of mind. The days following Gerard's death, between grieving and putting things in order for the funeral, had been hectic and with little chance to rest.

Despite being separated from Leda once more, Herwald was glad to return to school. Between classes and assignment he could divert his mind form the dull ache of loss.

He was glad to see his friends again but he proffered to be alone for the ride, as it was probably the only time he would have to completely sit back for the next few months. Once he'd step inside the gates of the ancient castle he would have to revert to his usual, workaholic self.

Therefore he sat by himself in the last carriage, with few other empty compartments between his and the other student's.

He was counting on being left alone but he didn't consider just how much a certain bushy haired girl would want to see him.

"Herwald? What are you doing here all by yourself?"

He must have dozed off since he realized that Hermione was there when she was already standing beside him. He hadn't even heard the door open.

"Hermione? Hi. Sorry, I just wanted to be left alone for a while," he mumbled. "How are you doing?"

"Fine, thank you. What about you? You didn't reply my letters and I didn't see you on the platform. I was worried something happened to you during the holidays."

Herwald blinked, shaking away the cobwebs. He didn't remember Hermione writing him at all, but the past week had been a little heavy on the emotional side. He could actually have overlooked a few owls.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he apologized. "My grandfather passed away last week. I didn't really paid much attention to anything beside the funeral."

"Oh, Merlin. Herwald I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't know, I didn't tell you," he said. "Don't worry, I'm doing fine anyway."

"R-really?"

"Yes. It hurts a little, but we knew it was coming for a while now. He had been ill for years. At least we managed to spend a last Yule together. I suppose that's better than nothing."

Hermione was at loss for words, as most would be in such a situation. There wasn't much she could say without sounding cliché. She settled with setting beside him and squeezing his hand a little. Herwald seemed to appreciate as he smiled and squeezed back.

"Have you seen Alex?" He asked, changing the topic.

"Yes, he went looking for you in the other direction, though Ron wasn't exactly pleased with it."

"Ugh," he moaned "What's the problem with Weasley anyway?"

"I think he's jealous," Hermione admitted.

"Jealous of me? Why? He hasn't show anything but contempt for me so. What could he be jealous about?"

"Eh. Many things I think."

"Care to share?"

"Well, for one you're... rich," she offered timidly, as if she was ashamed of point out his wealth, "and you are self-confident."

"It doesn't look like he's shy to me," Herwald objected, but Hermione shook her head.

"No, he's loud and arrogant, but he has no confidence at all. Maybe it's because he has plenty of older brothers, I'm not sure. I think he perceive your friendship with Alex as a threat to his own."

Herwald considered her opinion carefully and then he nodded.

"I see. They have been friend for quite a while."

"According to Alex, Ron and Neville Longbottom were the only kids he frequented as a child."

"Because of the Boy-Who-Lived mystique?"

"Yes," Hermione confirmed. "Since Voldemort's downfall the Potters have been a reserved family. The Weasleys and Longbottoms where pretty much the only families with children of Alex's age they frequented on a regular basis."

Again Herwald took a moment to consider her words. Something didn't quite add up.

"You said that Longbottom was Alex's other childhood friend, but I never see them interact with each other. I mean, Alex always drags Ron with us even when it's clear that he doesn't want to. Why doesn't he do the same with Longbottom?"

"Actually, I don't know. As a matter of fact Neville is by himself most of the time. He's a little shy and most boys makes fun of him, even in Gryffindor. Maybe they grew apart?"

"Maybe," Herwald conceded. It wasn't a strange thing for children to stop being friends for a reason or another.

It was a good thing that they stopped speaking, because Alex choose that moment to open the compartment's door.

"There you are. I knew you would be at the end of the train rather than the top " he exclaimed cheerfully before noticing the two still holding hands. His mouth quirked up in a grip. "Am I interrupting something? Hermione, if you wanted to be alone with Herwald you just had to say so, instead of in sending me on a fool's errand."

"W-what?" Hermione sputtered indignantly, not much because his allegation was wrong, but because it was spot on. "You got it all wrong."

"Am I, now? Looks to me you are quite smitten with each other," he said pointing at their still intertwined hands.

"EEEEP," Hermione squealed, trying and failing at retrieving her hand from Herwald's grasp.

"It's not like that Alex," Herwald choose to defend her friend, as he was completely unaware of the girl's thoughts, "she was just giving me her condolences for my grandfather's passing."

All the amusement on Alex's face was flushed away.

"Damn! I'm sorry Herwald, I didn't know. Is that why you didn't write back? How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine, really. Things got quite hectic with the funeral and I kind of forgot about everything else, Sorry about that."

"Don't even mention it," Alex said, still embarrassed over his faux-pas. "You had more important things to think about."

"Anyway, why don't you sit with us, now that you're here? Tell me how your holidays went."

Both teens were more than glad to change topic once more. They spent the rest of the ride talking about the gifts they received and the places they had been. Herwald apologized for not even opening Hermione's present, which she confessed being a kit composed by both a quill and a pen for Herwald to sign his future books.

Unaware to all three of them, a certain redhead was fuming in his compartment, completely forgotten by his supposed friends. Ronald Weasley never once thought that he could have gone with them looking for Herwald. He preferred to sulk by himself, plotting to get back at the Dark Wizard for stealing his friend.

* * *

Draco return to Hogwarts was a little more pleasant. His father had been happy to hear that his son was trying to befriend the scion of a powerful. Pureblood house. Lucius Malfoy, being in the same high circle as Gerard, was aware of the elder Grindelwald's passing and prompted his son to write his condolences to the young heir.

They received a formal thanks, but no invitation to participate at the funeral. It wasn't surprising. The two families had a few businesses together but never mingled beyond that. Still, as their heir was studying in the country, there was a chance that his family would further expand their businesses in England. As such, it was a good idea for Draco to befriend him, even if the Grindelwald weren't exactly of the same political agenda as the Malfoys. Blood purity was fine, but in the end, between ideals and gold, the latter always won. Lucius Malfoy had many flaws but no one could say he wasn't a practical man.

Draco had very little interest for all of that at that point in his life. He understood the importance of it but knew it wouldn't really matter until later in life. He genuinely wanted to befriend Herwald and for that purpose he decide that giving his condolences in person, as a good friend would. Hopefully, the raven haired wizard would see it as that, and not as a chance for Draco to gain some favour.

When the train arrived he watched his intended target step off accompanied by his usual entourage. Potter and Granger were with him but he would be damned if he allowed that to stop it.

He strode confidently in Herwald's direction, ignoring the flow of students that pushed him back until he was right in front of him.

* * *

Herwald saw the easily noticeable blond head making his way toward him. He wasn't exactly sure of what Draco wanted, but judging from the look on his face he was determined to obtain it.

It was a interesting change for the boy that usually sneered or taunted, but never actually took action. To his surprise, Herwald was looking forward to find out what the other boy wanted.

"Herwald," Draco greeted with a nod of his head

"Draco," Herwald replied in the same manner.

"I heard about your grandfather," the blonde said without dancing around the topic. "I wanted to offer my condolences."

He stuck his hand out and it took only a mere second for Herwald to grasp and shook it.

"Thank you, Draco. I received your letter but I'm glad you took the time to talk to me in person."

"It was the least I could do," he admitted, sincerely for once. "Well, I suppose I should go now. I'll see you later, I suppose. You too, Potter. Granger."

He spun and left, leaving behind a pleased wizard and another pair of stunned teens.

"All right," Alex said after a moment. "Either he was Imperioused or it was an imposter under polyjuice. I'd bet on the latter."

"Alex, honestly," Hermione huffed after she got over her own surprise."Not even Draco can be a prat all the time."

"Hermione, a Malfoy being anything less than a prat would mean that it can rain backwards."

"Alex," Herwald spoke with a tone of reprieve, "that's the same thing I always hear about me and my family."

"What? Hey, it's nothing like that," Alex defended himself. "This is not a matter prejudice. It's direct experience. I actually met three generations of Malfoys and they all were prats to the core. Malfoy senior was a Death Eater and his father before him a pureblood supremacist of the worst kind."

"Still, I think you should give Draco the benefit of doubt," Hermione protested and Herwald agreed with a nod.

"Why are you defending him of all people? He always treat you like dirty and even called you with the M-word."

"M-word?" Herwald asked.

"Mudblood," Hermione explained.

"Ah. And what's wrong with it?"

"What's wrong with it?" Alex asked bewildered. "What do you mean what's wrong with it?"

"Don't answer a question with a question. I just don't get what's the point. What's wrong with calling Hermione a Mudblood? She's one."

A moment of silence fell between them. Had Herwald just insulted Hermione? It didn't make sense and the girl in question seemed to think the same. Alex on the other hand was taken aback.

"Herwald, Mudblood is intended as an insult here in England," Hermione offered, guessing that it was a misunderstanding born over language. Herwald was native of Germany after all.

"It is? How can Mudblood even be intended as an insult?"

"Duh," Alex said. "Mud is dirt, so it's like saying that her blood is dirt too."

"Ah, I never thought of it like that," Herwald scratched his head in thought as he admitted it. "Oh well, I suppose that it's the intent behind a name that makes the difference."

"I don't understand how you could intend it as anything but an insult Herwald," Alex deadpanned.

"Because it isn't," Herwald shot back.

"Herwald, this discussion isn't getting anywhere. Why don't you explain us what that word means for you?"

"All right, but it's better if we do this after dinner. We're going to be late at this rate."

He was right. Most of the students had already left the platform. They immediately rushed after the crowd, postponing the conversation to a later time.

* * *

With a full belly and no longer hurry, the trio sat at the Ravenclaw table with a few more listeners in Padma Patil and Daphne Greengrass.

The latter had approached Herwald after with the same intentions as Draco. She was quickly invited to join the discussion and didn't see any reason not to. She didn't really mind the company and Herwald was considered worthy of being befriended by the rest of her house.

It was only due to his closeness to the Potter heir and the Slytherin House insular nature that the young Grindelwald had yet to make any real acquaintance among the snakes. In this instance he invited her to join him and as such she had no reason to consider eventual discomfort to her presence from the rest of his friend.

Not that there was any. To her surprise the Potter boy didn't seem to have problems with her being there. He merely gave her a neutral glance and then shrugged. Granger too didn't seem to have any grudge against her for being a Snake. After all, the only person who gave her any trouble for her origins was Malfoy and his goons, and even them had cut back with the taunts recently.

It seemed that when Herwald was put into the equation the usual roles shifted. There was a lot more enmity toward Granger from her own House. She probably didn't notice but only her friendship with Alex shielded her from having the same treatment as Longbottom.

How ironic that the Muggleborn girl was considered to be a traitor in the very Bastion of the Light.

That was one thing she had to give Herwald credit for. Whenever he was around he cast a different light on things. Perspectives changed and people showed their worst. It didn't escape anyone that even the usually fair McGonagall was waiting for a chance to corner him.

It involved few people for the time being but never before students from different houses sat together outside of class or the library. The odd group only lacked somebody from Hufflepuff, but that was only due to the sense of loyalty that pervaded that House. She could clearly see the Bones girl peeking at them every now and then. She had no doubt that given the occasion she would have hopped on that particular cart, out of curiosity.

Even the staff table kept an eye or ten on the raven haired wizard. After the troll incident he had been one of the first suspects, but he walked out of that position with little effort on his part. The talk down he gave to the House of Lions for failing Granger in time of need was still a topic of discussion (and laughter) beyond the doors of Slytherin's dorm.

And speaking of the staff, professor Flitwick had obviously taken an interest in the mixed group and was now walking in their direction.

"Ah! Good evening," he greeted. "Forgive me if I interrupt, but I couldn't help but wonder what you children were talking about. It's not every day that we can see such a mixed group."

"We aren't doing anything wrong, are we professor?" Hermione asked, worried of having broken some unknown rule.

"No, not at all Miss Granger. For years we tried to promote House unity but never got more than a few study groups from the students in NEWT years. It's just really wanted to know what could have brought such a group together."

"Oh," Hermione said, "Herwald was going to explain us the meaning of the term Mudblood."

Flitwick blinked several time at a very fast pace. He didn't expect that. Never before he imagined that a group of children would sit down and discuss the etymology of a known racial slur, especially not the potential target of such word.

"Ah. Is that so?" He asked not knowing exactly what else to say. "Would you mind if I joined in?

"Not at all , Professor," Herwald said politely. "Please have a seat."

"Thank you," he replied sitting down on the bench right beside Padma. His head was the only part of his body that could be seen from the other side of the table. Alex had to hold back a laughter at the comical sight.

"As I was saying, I didn't understand why the term Mudblood was used as an insult but then I considered that I was brought up by the Old Ways."

"Most Pureblood are," Daphne pointed out.

"Pardon me, I misspoke. I meant the Ancient Ways, My family still has a very strong druidic culture."

"Ah, I see," Alex said, and then immediately denied that statement. "But how does that change anything?"

Herwald chuckled."Druids are notoriously in tune with nature and see things from that perspectives. Tell me Alex, what is mud?"

"Err... Dirt?"

"By a human standpoint I would agree, but I meant by a more practical one."

"A mixture of soil and water," Padma replied easily.

"Correct, Padma. Elaborate on that."

A moment of silence followed. It was Hermione, unsurprisingly, to come up with the right answer.

"Fertile soil?"

Herwald nodded at her. "Exactly. Back when the Pureblood movement still didn't exist Muggle-born children were considered to be a promise from the world to renew the gift of Magic. They represented a way for the Magic-folk to continue existing. It was a great honour for a magical family to welcome a Mudblood in their ranks and vice versa."

"This only proves that the Pureblood supremacist's beliefs of superiority is just bullsh...," Alex trailed off as he remembered that a professor was with them. "Ahem, I mean foolishness."

"Of course you do," Hermione said condescendingly.

"But that's wrong. There is a direct relation between blood purity and one's magical potential."

"What? But that's not true," Alex snapped back.

"Actually, Mr. Grindelwald is right," professor Flitwick said. "Lineage actually affects magic very deeply."

"How? I never seen anything of the sort," Hermione cut in. "Even here in school I never seen Purebloods having any sort of advantage over the Muggleborn."

"Because it doesn't work like that, Hermione," Herwald said, taking charge of the conversation again. "Magical heritage affects how far a person can get, magically-wise, but doesn't offer any initial advantage. ... Perhaps I should clarify. Magic is an hereditary trait. Even Squibs, unable as they are to perform any spell are able to interact with the magical world. Do we all agree with this?"

He received nods of confirmation from everyone, even though he was mostly speaking with Hermione and Alex.

"As far as magical power goes, only a fraction is passed on from generation to generation, but as a matter of fact a pureblood has more magical energy than any Muggleborn."

"But... I can cast more spells then... say...Draco does in most classes," Hermione objected.

"That is because you have better control over your magic, and your wand work is superior as well. You also put more effort outside of the actual classes and as consequence you perform better overall. If you compare it to a car, a pureblood has more fuel capacity whereas you have a more efficient engine. If Draco put half the effort you do he would undoubtedly keep up with you, stamina wise. The point of magical inheritance has little to do with this however. What's truly passed down is specialization."

"Specialization?" She asked.

"Yes, when a magical family applies itself to a certain branch of magic, the children born of that blood will have a higher potential than others. Alex's family, for instance, his known to be pretty talented in transfiguration."

"But I'm not as good as my father was at my age," he protested. "You mean it's because I'm only an Half-blood?"

Herwald groaned and shook his head. "How messed up is British society?"

"What are you talking about now?"

"He means," Daphne cut in, "that you aren't a Half-blood."

"What? Of course I am," Alex answered befuddled.

"No you aren't," Herwald said back. "First, your heritage has still to show, so your mother's origin doesn't affect you. As for your blood status, both your parents are magical and as such you are a fully fledged Pureblood."

"But my mother's a Muggleborn."

"So? She's still magical. For you to be an Half-blood she would have to be a Muggle. I suppose your family doesn't much care for blood status, but ask your father about it when you can. Furthermore, beside the Blood Purists, no one in magical society would look down on you for who your mother is; and those who would discriminate you for that only want to push Muggleborn out of the Wizarding world. Do you think that Voldemort's followers," he ignored the flinches at the mention of the Dark Lord's name, "where all Purebloods? There's just an handful of families in every country that hasn't at least a Muggleborn or a so-called Half-Blood in the past three generations. And those few are dying _Squibbing_ out."

"Wait," Hermione paused, "you're saying that Muggleborns are actually a necessity for magic to continue existing?"

"Pretty much. While bringing fresh blood into the family halts the increment of talent in the family's field of choice for a generation or two, it's a needed procedure to renew the gift of magic. Truth to be told, the purist movement initially began to minimize the need of such influxes in order to speed up the improvement of magic. Only a few centuries later it became a political movement based on cultural fear. Of course, it never abandoned the claim that it's for the sake of magical heritage, even if it's actually counter-intuitive in that regard by now."

"Wait, wait, wait. I'm losing you here," Hermione admitted. "How is the pureblood movement damaging to magic if preserving it was the original purpose?"

Herwald sighed. "Magical inheritance affects the maximal potential a wizard or a witch possess in a determined branch of magic. It's a factor that hardly ever comes into play because nowadays, beside a few researchers and scholars, no one pushes himself magically beyond what's needed in everyday's life. This is especially true when it comes to old, wealthy, pureblood families."

He stopped to give his listeners a moment to process what he said.

"Their heirs, once they leave Hogwarts hardly ever need to use their own magic to do anything. House Elves take care of the basic needs and, as they spend most of the time working life administering their financial businesses, they don't even need to cast anything but a few elementary spells. Even thought they might have a natural disposition in a certain field due to their ancestry, they no longer exercise it to the point of it being significant. Combined with the policy of keeping fresh blood political means and monetary wealth it results in magic withering instead of prospering. Wizarding culture is stagnant and magic suffers in return, resulting in decreasing fertility and an increase in Squibs' numbers."

Hermione groaned. "Why don't they teach us this stuff in History of Magic?"

"A very good question," Herwald commented. "Let's take this chance to find out why this isn't' a part of the standard curriculum. Professor Flitwick?"

"Actually, as far as I know, it is included the first year course load," the diminutive professor said.

"And how many people have acquired a OWL or even a NEWT in this subject in the past few years?"

"None that I'm aware about," he admitted.

"And that would be because?"

"Mr. Grindelwald," Flitwick piped up. "Are you expecting me to comment negatively the work of my colleague?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," he said smirking. A little arrogantly in the Charm professor's opinion. "I would appreciate, however, if you brought this subject up in the appropriate courts, if you agree that there's something below standard in our education."

Flitwick rubbed his temples. "Are you formally asking your Head o House to file a complaint against another professor?"

"Not necessarily. So long as the matter is solved I don't quite care how it is done. I'm confident that you're more than capable of choosing which method to apply to see it done."

The professor actually nodded. "It's my responsibility to see that this matter is properly examined, that much is certain. Thought I'd appreciate if you were less of a smart-mouth when bringing up eventual complaints."

"Noted, professor," Herwald answered still smirking.

"I'm serious, Mr. Grindelwald. There's no need for you to corner me with evidences for me to listen to anything you have to say. Your heritage does not matter to me."

Herwald sat back straighter and blinked. How had the conversation turned to this? Had he assumed that his teacher was biased and would not listen to his opinion because of his family? Not consciously, no, but he still pushed the matter forcefully and unwittingly offended the man.

"I apologize professor," he said bowing his head lightly. "I'm afraid some bad habits are ingrained too hard for me to bypass them easily. It wasn't my intention to offend you."

"Apology accepted," Flitwick said. "I do understand where you are coming from Mr. Grindelwald."

"Of course. Thank you, professor."

"Anytime. Now, I suggest you to retire for the night as soon as you can. The holydays are over and classes will restart as usual tomorrow. Make sure you are all properly rested."

"Yes, professor," they agreed in chorus.

Hermione waited for Flitwick to be out of earshot before speaking to Herwald.

"What just happened?"

"I think I just made an ass out of myself," he commented sourly.

"Happens to the best of us, mate," Alex said patting his back.

"You would know something about that, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, you're such an arse."

"Alex! Language!"

The group dissolved in laughter, blissfully forgetting any and all barriers built between Houses. Herwald too enjoyed the moment, and for the first time in days he managed not to think about his grandfather. He hadn't quite finished grieving yet, but with the help of friends the process would speed up considerably.

He slept a restful sleeps from that night onward, until things started to change again.

And to think that all it took was a tiny little dragon.

* * *

**AN:**

All right. I'm finally back to this story. I had a major family loss recently (my old, faithful notebook died out), and I had a bit of trouble retrieving the latest copy of my data. I have a triple backup of everything important, so it wasn't a complete disaster, but it was a setback nonetheless.

As usual, reviews are appreciated. I'll be starting a forum for my fics so feel free to join and discuss them there.

Also, I'm in the process of editing this whole story so it might take a while before I update again.

See ya.


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